


we’re burnin’ down the night (shootin’ bullets at the moon)

by windsthatwhisper



Category: Baseball RPF, Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Stereotypical Southern Stuff, The Seguin Boys, instagram is the only reason they communicated in the first place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2020-12-31 02:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsthatwhisper/pseuds/windsthatwhisper
Summary: “If you want to chicken out, hide behind some fake story PR wants you to use, then do it.” Tyler yells, voice strained. Jamie looks startled, and momentarily guilty. “I need you to breathe; I need you to get up in the morning. I need you, okay? But if you don’t need me, then what’s the point?”AKA: Jamie plays baseball. Tyler plays hockey. They’re both idiots, but somehow manage to keep the world turning with dumb pickup lines and wine coolers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning that I don’t know much about baseball, so I’m going based on the research I’ve done, the few games that I’ve watched, and how we played in gym class. If there are any mistakes that you see, let me know so I can change them! Thank y’all very much lmao and please bear with me :)
> 
> ALSO I’m aware that Asdrubal Cabrera is number 14, so for this fic im just gonna pretend Caberera is number 4 lol

_ April 2019 _

* * *

Tyler likes baseball, he does. He’s just not a big Texas Rangers fan.

But Klings is getting married and his bachelor party is literally just going to a Texas Rangers game, and Tyler’s not going to decline just because he doesn’t like the team.

Klings, thank the heavens, doesn’t make him wear anything embarrassing, so Tyler decides to dress in nothing but a white shirt, black jeans, a backwards cap, and hopes for the best.

He knows the gist of baseball; he’s watched enough games to follow what’s going on, and the Rangers are playing the Astros, so there’s a bit of aggression there that Tyler’s hoping to witness.

He has to admit though, both NHL players and MLB players play golf in the offseason, so at least they agree on something. He doesn’t see very many NFL or NBA players blowing up their Instagram stories with golfing pictures, so that automatically makes the NHL and MLB the better sports.

Tyler looks up at the big screen as the camera zooms in on the centre-fielder. Tyler- is mesmerized. 

The player has some stubble, enough to sharply define his jaw, which is clenched, eyes focused on the batter all the way across the field. He’s bent over a bit, rocking on his heels as he waits. One of his teammates shouts something at him, and he smirks. 

“Who’s that?” Tyler asks Johns, pointing at the screen. Johns looks over just as the camera goes to the batter, but luckily, he was able to catch a glimpse.

“Who, the centre-fielder?”

“Yeah.”

Now that he’s off the screen, Tyler looks for him on the field. The pitcher throws, and the batter misses. The centre-fielder doesn’t move.

“Uh, think that’s Jamie Benn?” Johns says, eyebrows furrowing. “Yeah, that’s Benn. One of the Rangers’ top players.”

“Huh,” says Tyler, and keeps his eyes on Jamie the entire time. 

-

“Don’t tell me you’re only paying attention because you think Jamie Benn is hot.”

Tyler turns to the sound of the voice — Bish, because of course it is — “I like baseball.” He takes a sip of his beer. “I like hockey better, but I like baseball.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Tyler ignores him.

It’s fifth inning, and Jamie’s turn to bat. He steps up to the plate, adjusting his gloves as he goes. The camera follows him, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers. 

“Benn was drafted to save the franchise,” Bish tells him, “He’s like, a god to the fans.”

Tyler watches as Jamie scratches his jaw then gets into position. “He certainly looks like a god.”

Rads smacks him on the back of the head. The group bursts into laughter. Tyler whines, pouting at them, “You’re all very mean.”

Jamie misses the first ball, but he repositions himself. Tyler doesn’t even see the ball leave the pitcher’s mitt before the crack of the ball hitting the bat rings through the stadium. Jamie’s drops the bat and takes off, landing on first base, then second, before sliding to a stop. It wasn’t a home run, but the crowd around him is on their feet, screaming praises.

The camera is on Jamie again, and the guy is looking  _ bashful.  _ Tyler’s mind is blown.

During the seventh inning stretch, half of the bachelor party takes off to the bathrooms — there was a bet in there somewhere that Tyler didn’t allow himself to overhear. He sits back, revels in the silence given without his team, watching as the crowd starts singing  _ Take Me Out to the Ball Game. _

He sees Jamie on the field dancing around with the pitcher — Shawn Kelley, if Tyler can remember correctly. He smiles, amused, and sips his beer contently. 

Sadly, the bachelor party comes back, and play resumes. Tyler takes a moment to take a few pictures of the group, then a video of the game. 

One of the Astros is up to bat. He hits it on the first ball, which goes sailing, up and up, arching, flying to the back of the stadium. Tyler’s sure it’s going to be a home run, but it gets close enough to the ground that Jamie’s suddenly leaping off the ground. He catches it in his mitt and hurls it at the third baseman. The ball slices through the air, and suddenly the third baseman is catching the ball right before the player gets to the base, and-

_ “Out!” _

Tyler’s on his feet and cheering before he can stop himself. Rads pulls him down into his seat by the back of his shirt. 

In the end, the Astros just barely squeeze by 6-5. Tyler’s sitting in his car, scrolling through the pictures to see what to post on his Instagram feed, and finds the video of Jamie preventing the Astros from getting a home run. He watches through it and decides to use it, along with two other pictures of the bachelor party from earlier in the night. 

**tseguin92: ** _ Great night out with the boys! 16 hours and counting until Klings is a married man. _

He tags Jamie on the video, because why not, posts it, then goes to Twitter and tweets out  _ ‘bachelor party with the boys!! Congrats Klings’. _

He goes home, eager to snuggle with the dogs and research everything he can on Jamie Benn.


	2. Chapter 2

Tyler wakes up the next morning to a hundred text messages reminding him about Klings’s wedding, a follow-back, and a comment on his Instagram post.

**jamiebenn14: ** _ I hope you enjoyed the game _

Tyler...

Tyler does not know what to do with this.

He stares at the comment for five minutes before shutting off his phone in a blind panic, slumping back against the pillows and whichever dog jumped up next to him in the middle of the night — even though he’s set _ rules _ about that. 

Jesus, he’s a moron.

He shakes himself out of it and opens his messages to text Klings, sending him a little playful congratulatory text with the promise that he’ll be over in an hour. 

(He spends the next fifteen minutes scrolling through Jamie’s Instagram feed, saving certain pictures to his collection, but Klings doesn’t need to know.)

-

_ May 2019_

* * *

The Stars drop from the playoffs after round two. It sucks; it _ sucks, _but deep down he saw it coming. The entire series was back and forth, and Blues closed out the series during a double OT and sent Tyler and his team packing.

Tyler takes a couple days to sulk. He posts a small paragraph on his Instagram and Twitter, thanking the fans for standing by them, that they’d be back next season. Almost immediately, his phone pings with an incoming Instagram notification. 

**jamiebenn14** _ commented _ ** _: _ ** _ You’ll get them next time _

Tyler decidedly does _ not _shut off his phone this time. Instead, like the mature adult he is, he likes the comment and replies.

**tseguin92:** _@jamiebenn14 thanks man. Good luck this season._

He adds a rock ‘n roll hand sign emoji for the heck of it, figures if this guy is going to find him annoying, might as well find out sooner rather than later.

A few minutes into scrolling through Hulu, he gets another notification.

**jamiebenn14** _liked your reply._

Tyler feels like a fourteen year old getting a ‘like’ from his favorite band member or something. He busies himself with media stuff all day, throwing himself into whatever they made him do_ , _hoping to calm the jitters that have started beneath his skin.

He goes about the rest of his day, able to forget the Jamie Jitters, but as he’s settling in for the night to start season four of _ Grey’s Anatomy — _the team has been on his tail about watching the series — of course Jamie has to post something to his Instagram, so Tyler is morally obligated to look.

It’s a picture of Jamie and Shawn Kelley, both dressed in their away game outfits, standing with their fists in their mitts. Their lips are curled upwards into snarls, gritting their teeth and glaring into the soul of the camera. Neither look very scary, but with the scruff around Jamie’s face, he looks a little intimidating. 

**jamiebenn14:** _Game ready._

It’s unfair how hot he is.

Tyler gnaws at his bottom lip as he likes the picture. He considers commenting. Jamie commented on both his posts, so he figures it’s only fair to comment on Jamie’s. 

He stares at his phone for five minutes trying to figure out what to write. Before he can talk himself out of it, Tyler types out his reply and hits send.

**tseguin92:** _Go get ‘em._

Tyler watches his phone nervously, waiting for a like, a response, anything-

**jamiebenn14** _replied_**_: _**_@tseguin92 if you insist_

A smile splits Tyler’s face, but before he can like the comment, he gets a text from Rads. It’s a lot of random letters in all caps, and then, _ ‘how are you already flirting with benn’. _

Tyler types back a vicious, _ ‘I am not FLIRTING’, _then shoves his phone away. He focuses on the show and not the rapid texts from Rads. He’s not flirting. He’s just being friendly.

Though he ignores the messages, he finds himself constantly checking the score of the baseball game. For the first five innings it stays 0-0, but then the Rangers are up by one, and then two, and then their lead is cut in half.

He finally bites the bullet and logs into ESPN to see if he can get the game. He thanks the heavens above when he finds that it’s available. He clicks on it, bouncing his foot impatiently as it loads.

His tv stalls for a minute, so the audio is all he gets for the first few seconds. He panics, but then the picture comes online, and lo and behold, there’s Jamie, kicking the dirt from his cleats with the bat. 2-1 Rangers.

The ball whips towards him, and Jamie hardly flinches as he swings the bat and smacks the ball into the stands. Jamie runs fast, even though it’s an obvious home run and no one can touch him, grin spread across his face. 

Tyler cheers so loud it alerts the dogs. He doesn’t care.

-

The Rangers lose again, but Tyler wants to congratulate Jamie anyway. He types out a message in the DM’s, but his thumb hovers over the ‘send’ button nervously.

_ I am a Stanley Cup champion and the captain of the Dallas Stars, _ he tells himself, _ I don’t need to be scared of messaging a cute guy. _

Tyler is very scared of messaging a cute guy.

He goes for it, stomach swooping as his message pops into a gray little bubble.

**tseguin92:** _Good game. You played great._

Tyler doesn’t get a response for half an hour, but he gets that. After a game, he doesn’t look at his phone until after he’s changed out if his gear and has a shower. He can only assume Jamie’s the same way.

**jamiebenn14:** _ Thank you. _

**jamiebenn14:** _I didn’t know you came to the game._

**tseguin92:** _ I didn’t. I watched it on ESPN. _

**jamiebenn14:** _Oh cool._

**jamiebenn14:** _Sorry about your season, man. Hopefully things will turn around next year._

Tyler is very intrigued.

**tseguin92:** _Do you watch hockey?_

Twenty minutes went by without a response, but Tyler gets that too. He waits patiently — albeit jittery — for the next reply.

**jamiebenn14: ** _ Yeah. Considered playing, too, but I’d trained more for baseball and decided to stick with it. _

**tseguin92:** _That’s so cool._

**tseguin92:** _I’m shit at baseball._

There’s a moment of pause. Tyler can’t help but wonder if Jamie is laughing at him.

**jamiebenn14:** _Guess I’ll have to teach you then._

Tyler is so, so on board.


	3. Chapter 3

_ July 2019_

* * *

Tyler plans on attending another game, but then he’s flying home to Canada to hang out with his family for a month. He texts Jamie the entire time, promises to come to a game when he gets back. 

And he _ plans _on coming back in June, but then he gets wrapped up in the ACC golfing championship and some Stars media stuff, has to fly back home for a family emergency and stays an extra week. He goes back to Dallas eventually and sleeps for two days.

When he’s conscious enough, the first thing he thinks of is checking the Texas Rangers’ schedule.

It’s July now, and the next home game is the thirtieth, so he buys two tickets close to the field and doesn’t tell Jamie.

At first, he’d wanted to go alone, but now he doesn’t think he can. So, he calls Bish and asks him to come along.

_ “You want me to be the third wheel on a date that Benn doesn’t even know he’s on?” _Is the answer he gets.

“You’re very rude,” Tyler huffs, “It’s not a date. Jamie asked me to come to a game when I could, so I’m fulfilling my promise. I can ask Miro if you don’t want-”

_ “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Segs,” _ Bish snorts, _ “I’ll be there.” _

He’s nervous when the night of the game comes. He dresses normally, blue jeans and a gray shirt. He takes a baseball cap, because the Texas sun is brutal, even at seven p.m. 

Tyler sends out a Tweet to his followers — and hopefully Jamie — as he and Bish dig into their hot dogs, along with a picture of them in their seats, clinking their solo cups.

**tseguin92:** _Cheers *image attached* #letsgorangers _

There’s still twenty minutes to game start, but Tyler’s surprised when he gets a DM.

**jamiebenn14:** _You little shit_

**jamiebenn14: ** _ Why didn’t you tell me you were here?? _

**tseguin92:** _Surprise!_

He thinks he feels Jamie’s eye roll through the phone. 

**jamiebenn14:** _How close are you?_

Tyler doesn’t respond.

**jamiebenn14:** _Tyler?_

Tyler puts his phone in his lap and takes a gulp of his beer. The teams spill onto the field, the Mariners first, then the Rangers. Tyler spots Jamie and his big 14 on his back, then notices him scanning the crowd.

Tyler flails his arms from the front row, shouting for Jamie. Bish is kind enough to help, waves his arms around with Tyler like lunatics until Jamie spots them. His eyes go wide, lips parting in surprise, and then a grin slides up his face.

Tyler sends him a thumbs up and a middle finger. Jamie tosses his head back and laughs.

One of his teammates grabs him by the shirt and drags him away. He’s smirking at Jamie, shoving him into more of his teammates. They’re ripping him for something, and Tyler’s going to rip him too until he finds out what it is.

Tyler enjoys the game. Bish decides to have half a beer and let Tyler drink himself buzzed, taking video after video, no doubt sending it to the team with some stupid caption like “love drunk” or something.

Whatever. At least Tyler’s cool enough to have a baseball friend. 

There’s something about knowing that one of the players wants him there that makes watching the game exhilarating. Every time Jamie’s up to bat, Tyler’s on his feet and hollering. His chest feels weightless when Jamie catches the ball, or throws it to a baseman and gets the runner out. 

The Rangers end up winning 7-2, and even Bish can’t help celebrating with the rest of the crowd, watching as the team pile onto one another after an eight-game losing streak. Tyler doesn’t think before he whips out his phone.

**tseguin92: ** _ That was a fuckin beauty of a game _

Unlike before, it only takes ten minutes to get a reply. 

**jamiebenn14:** _ Are you busy tonight? _

That- that was not at all what Tyler was expecting, but he can’t say he’s not secretly pleased. 

**tseguin92:** _Well, I had plans with my couch and the next Grey’s Anatomy season, but I suppose I can make an exception._

Then, in panic:

**tseguin92:** _ That is, if you’re offering _

The response is immediate. 

**jamiebenn14:** _ Up to go grab some food? Say half an hour? _

**tseguin92:** _Sounds great :))_

Tyler does a little happy dance while on the way to the car. Bish clicks the unlock button on the key fob and says, “You’re a moron.”

**jamiebenn14: ** _ Do you want to meet me at Wingstop? _

Tyler types back _ ‘will do’ _while running away from the oncoming vehicles.

-

Tyler waits outside the restaurant, scrolling through his Instagram feed while simultaneously sending dumb pictures to his sisters over Snapchat. He’d speedily dropped off Bish at his house before heading to Wingstop, probably breaking multiple traffic laws along the way.

He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting there when he hears gravel crunching, and a shadow spills over his feet. Tyler looks up and- fuck, shit, that’s Jamie Benn.

“Hi,” he says hurriedly, shoving his phone into his pocket as he stands.”

“Hi,” Jamie smiles at him, stretching out his hand for a shake. Tyler takes it, unreasonably pleasantly surprised at how well it fits in his own. “I’m Jamie.”

“Tyler.” He greets, then opens the door for Jamie.

Jamie smiles gratefully, rows of pearly whites shimmering at him behind the scruff. Tyler’s mesmerized. 

There’s hardly anyone in the restaurant, considering it’s approaching eleven thirty, and it’s nice that neither of them have to worry about fans or behaving in case of cameras. 

“That game was incredible,” Tyler says after they’ve ordered and sat down at a table — they decided to split 30 Original Hot wings, and Tyler shouldn’t be as excited about that as he is, “You we’re on fire tonight.”

Jamie shrugs, smiling small behind his glass of water, “Really? I dunno, I think there was a lot I could work on.”

Tyler shrugs back at him. “There’s always something to work on. That’s how you become a better player. Performing is important, but so is doing your best. And that was some sick stuff I saw tonight.”

Jamie’s cheeks flush pink. “Wow, that’s- thank you.” He sits up, placing his glass back on the table. “I look forward to seeing you and your team play, once the season starts back up again. I can’t remember the last time I went to a Stars game.”

Tyler beams, “The fans are incredible. You’ll fit right in.”

He doesn’t realize how flirtatious it sounds until it’s out of his mouth. Jamie’s face goes bright red, but they’re saved from embarrassment by the waiter coming by with their order. 

“Hallelujah!” Tyler cheers, throwing his hands up in the air in praise. Jamie laughs into his water. 

They pointedly ignore Tyler’s previous statement to instead dig into the wings. All Tyler ate at the game was a hot dog and beer to wash it down. Jamie probably hasn’t eaten anything but a Gatorade bar since noon. 

They talk about everything and nothing. Conversation comes easier now that the awkwardness has passed. They talk about their siblings, how apparently his brother, Jordie, plays for the Habs, and that just opens up a whole new world for Tyler. 

“I remember this one time, I was going on a date with this girl, and she came to my house because I still, uh couldn’t drive- uh, but-” Tyler sputters, grinning when he sees Jamie trying to muffle his laughter with the back of his hand, fingers covered in hot sauce, “-she came to my house to pick me up, and Cassidy came running down the stairs, dressed in her mermaid pajamas, and told her that if she broke my heart, she’d break her foot. She was _ seven.” _

Jamie tosses his head back, laughing until tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. “Oh my god, okay. I’ve got one.” He bites off the last of the meat on one of the wings and tosses it onto the plate, “I was babysitting this toddler and his baby sister, and Jordie wanted to call and talk — for whatever reason. But he calls at the _worst _moment, when the baby is wailing, right? And Jordie was convinced that I’d knocked someone up and secretly had a baby. _Convinced.”_

Tyler chokes on his iced tea, “Wh- how old were you?”

_ “Thirteen!” _

Tyler doubles over, trying not to get hot sauce in his eyes while he wipes the tears away with his palm. 

By the time they finish the wings, it’s almost closing time, so they clean up and pay the check. Jamie insists on paying all of it, since he invited Tyler out, but Tyler’s persistent, set on paying since Jamie just played a killer game.

“You deserve to have a free dinner after the game you just played,” Tyler states, fingers putting more pressure on the check, “I’m paying.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I invited you out. The one who invites the other one out is the one who pays.” Jamie yanks the check towards him. “I’ve got this.”

Tyler glares, before sighing. “Okay, how about we both pay half? That way, we each get what we want.”

Jamie squints, as if he expects Tyler to pull something, and nods his head slowly. “Okay.”

They ask for two separate check. As they’re writing everything out on the receipt, they can’t help but repeatedly glance at the other to see if they’re secretly trying to pay for everything.

The total comes down to $30.45, and they each pay $15.20. It takes them a moment to realize that there’s leftover cents still needing to be paid.

“I’ve got the five cents!” Jamie shouts and scribbles it on his receipt before Tyler can call it. 

Tyler’s mouth drops open in disbelief. “You- ugh!”

Once everything’s been paid for, they make their way back to their cars. It’s dark out as they walk, midnight looming over Dallas to the point where Tyler has to pull out his phone and use the flashlight.

Jamie ends up walking Tyler to his car. It sends a burst of warmth through his chest. “This was fun,” Jamie smiles, bashful, and Tyler can see a hint of pink in the dim, “We should do this again. Uh, maybe not Wingstop but. Maybe something else. Not that I didn’t have a good time-”

“Jamie,” laughs Tyler, “I had a great time, too. Just let me know when you’re free, yeah? We can figure something out.”

Jamie snaps his mouth shut, but he grins. “Sounds good.”

They stand there in silence for a bit, unsure of what to say next. It’s suddenly awkward, and that’s not what Tyler wants. To loosen the air around them, he squeezes Jamie’s arm and says, “Well, I should get going. Good luck on your game tomorrow.”

Jamie scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Thanks, Tyler.”

Tyler smiles at him, kind, before sliding into his car and starting it up. Jamie doesn’t move as he backs out of the parking space, and when Tyler glances in the mirror, he sees that Jamie’s still standing there, watching him go.


	4. Chapter 4

_ August 2019_

* * *

Jamie doesn’t get another day off until the week Tyler’s gone back to Canada to spend some more time with his family. Jamie’s disappointed, but understands. 

When Tyler’s not with his family, most of his time is occupied by texting Jamie over Instagram. So, Jamie surprises him when, three days before he’s supposed to leave, says, _ ‘Can I have your number so we can FaceTime sometime?’ _ Followed by, _ ‘it’s cool if you don’t want to, just figured I’d ask.’ _

Tyler has to take a whole ten minutes trying to wrap his head around the fact that Jamie Benn just asked for his number. 

When he finally gathers up the courage, he sends back, _ ‘yeah sure’ _and then types in his number. He doesn’t think twice before he hits send.

He’s texting Jamie over Instagram after dinner that night, when Candace asks, “Who’re you texting,” gasps, says, “Is it a boy!?” and then promptly steals his phone. Tyler tries to fight her to get it back, but Cassidy sits on him, knowing full well that Tyler won’t do anything about it. 

“So his name is Jamie,” Candace announces, listing off things for her sister to hear, “Apparently he had a great time at Wingstop and he’s still mad Tyler didn’t let him pay the check completely — jeez Ty, let a man treat you. Blah blah blah, does he play baseball? _ Professional _baseball? Wow, you really know how to pick ‘em.”

“Mom!” Tyler screams, “They’re making fun of me!”

Their mother pops her head into the doorway. “Girls, stop harassing your brother.”

“But _ Mom.” _Cassidy groans. In a flash, Tyler wraps his hands around her arms and pulls her off of him, sending her flying onto the couch. She sits up with a gasp, shoving the hair from her face. “How dare you!”

Tyler sticks his tongue out at her.

Candace hands Tyler back his phone, a bemused expression on her face. “I expect to meet him next time we fly down.”

Tyler rolls his eyes. “We’ll see.” He says and takes his phone back.

“You’d be a cute couple,” she tells him, “And that line to get your number? Smooth.”

“Line?” Tyler asks, “What line?”

Candace looks even more amused. “Ty, he didn’t need your number.”

“If he wanted to FaceTime, he did.”

Candace stares at him as if he’s a dumbass, which, _ rude. _“You know that you can video chat on Instagram, right?”

Tyler blinks, “Huh?”

Cassidy facepalms. 

-

He and Jamie facetime the night before Tyler flies back to Dallas, when everyone’s in bed and Tyler should be sleeping, but isn’t, because he’s much rather talk to Jamie than he would be in a dreamless sleep for eight hours. 

Jamie’s currently cooped up in a hotel room in Cleveland, after losing 5-1. There’s a sunken look in Jamie’s eyes, like he blames himself for their loss, even though there’s over thirty other guys that played just as poorly, if not worse. 

“I saw the score,” Tyler mumbles, curled on his side with his cheek smushed against his free hand and the side of his phone pressed against the pillow, “Fuck Cleveland.”

Jamie smiles, chuckling quietly with a nod of agreement. _ “I’ll say.” _

“You’ll get ‘em next time.” Tyler says, smirking as Jamie laughs, _“Yeah.” _

They fall silent. The sound of Jamie shuffling on the other line lulls him into a floaty feeling.

_ “So,” _ Jamie says, putting a hand behind his head, _ “Does the great Tyler Seguin have a girlfriend?” _

Tyler snorts, unable to contain the giggles that slip past his lips. “Not a chance.” He sighs, and doesn’t mention that he hasn’t had a girlfriend since he was sixteen years old, “It’s not really my thing.”

Jamie frowns a little, _ “Dating’s not your thing?” _

Tyler closes his eyes, “Girls aren’t my thing.”

Tyler hears a quiet, _ “oh” _ come from Jamie, and when he opens his eyes again, Tyler can’t read his expression. “Yeah.” Now his nerves are shot. “So, what about you? Does the savior of his franchise have a girlfriend?”

Jamie chuckles, _ “You’re the savior of your franchise too, you know.” _ He cracks his neck, which Tyler shouldn’t find hot, but he does anyway. _ “And no, no girlfriend.” _

Tyler nods, settling against the pillows. “Well, that’s just dumb. Considering the fact that you fought me to pay for a basket of wings, you just seem like boyfriend material-”

_ “I’m bi,” _Jamie says, staring at Tyler through the screen.

“Hi bi, I’m gay. Wait-” Tyler says automatically, then drops the phone and covers his face in mortification. “That’s not what I meant to say at all. I am so sorry.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything, though, too busy laughing his ass off to respond. Tyler takes the phone and only shows the top of his face. “I hate myself.”

Jamie’s trying to catch his breath, forcing Tyler to burrow himself under his covers. _ “Oh shit, I knew there was a reason I liked you.” _

Tyler’s eyes go wide, peeking out from the covers to look at Jamie, who’s looking like a deer caught in headlights. _ “Uh.” _

“Aw, Benny, you do care.” Tyler teases, and Jamie relaxes. 

_ “I should probably go to bed,” _Jamie tells him, and stays up until three having an argument with Tyler about pancakes versus waffles. 

-

Tyler gets back to Dallas at midnight, and doesn’t get home until one. The dogs leap on him and send him to the ground, licking and nosing all over him. Tyler’s too tired to move, so he falls asleep on the floor in the middle of the foyer. 

-

He wakes up to a door slamming into his skull.

Tyler yells, scrambling to sit up. The dogs jump up immediately, barking angrily at whoever just attacked their father.

“Segs? Why you on the floor?”

Tyler rubs his head and groans. “Rads?” Rads helps him off the floor, dusting him off. Tyler pouts at him, drowsy with sleep and probably a concussion. “‘M telling Jamie on you.”

He shuffles to the kitchen and doesn’t realize what he said until Rads throws a banana at his head in a fit of rage. “You are dating baseball boy and didn’t tell me!?”

Tyler ducks away from the apple being hurled at his head. “We’re not dating!”

Rads snuffs, like he doesn’t believe him. 

“I swear! We just went to hang out after his game. That’s all!”

Rads squints in disbelief. Tyler ignores him. He wraps up an ice pack for his head and decides to heat up a bunch of Eggo waffles for breakfast, because he’s an adult. 

“Does Benn know about your massive fan crush on him?” 

_ “Oh my god, _Rads. I don’t have a crush on Jamie.” He slams the door of the microwave shut and tears off a piece of waffle with his teeth. “Why are you here anyway?”

“Am taking care of your dogs while you are away. You did not tell me you were coming back.” Rads says, crossing his arms. “Why you not keep me in the loop?”

Tyler opens his mouth to tell him, but thinks better of it, and instead noms on the rest of his waffle. He’s not about to tell Rads — who will tell the whole team — that he was up all night arguing with Jamie over pancakes and waffles and that they accidentally outed themselves to each other because they’re both fucking morons. 

“I had-” Tyler tries, “-reasons.”

Rads hums. “Uh huh. ‘Reasons.’” 

“Yes, reasons!” Tyler shouts, and stuffs an entire waffle into his mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

_ August 2019_

* * *

For the next few weeks, Jamie gets absolutely _ no _days off. He’s exhausted, but he stills calls Tyler every night, no matter what time it is wherever they are, even if it’s just to say a quiet “good night” or ask about how Tyler’s day was.

It worries Tyler, how hard he’s working. He’s pushing himself too hard most times, and it’s only a matter of time before he gets himself hurt if he doesn’t slow down.

He voices his concern to Miro when they’re out for lunch on the 10th. 

“He’s diving more,” he frowns at his friend as he shovels more fries into his mouth, “Sliding. He’s got bruises and cuts all over his arms and legs. I know he’s a professional athlete, but still.”

Miro’s got some kind of secret smile on his face.

“What?”

Miro shrugs. “You sound like mother hen.”

Tyler gawks.

“Well, you are!” Miro laughs, “You said same thing to rookies last year. ‘Play hard but don’t do dumb shit.’” 

“So? I’m not wrong.” Tyler munches on his burger, embarrassed. “He just- I don’t want him breaking his leg because he tried to slide into third base because he thinks he has to carry the team.”

“You can be nurse.” Miro smirks. Tyler throws a fry at his head.

-

The Rangers just arrived at the hotel in Toronto for the series against the Blue Jays when Jamie calls him on FaceTime.

“Quick call?” Tyler asks upon seeing Jamie tucked under the blankets with every light out except the lamp. 

_ “Yeah,” _ Jamie says, sleep heavy in his voice, _ “But I wanted to call you to say hi.” _

“Well, hi then,” laughs Tyler, tilting the camera upwards to all that’s visible is everything above his pecs. He was in the middle of showering when Jamie called, so he had to yank all the suds out of his hair and jump out without slipping and breaking his neck so he could answer the phone. 

_ “Are you showering?” _He asks, voice hitched the slightest bit. Even in the dark of Jamie’s room, Tyler can see his pupils dilating ever so slightly.

Tyler hums. “Yeah. I’ve been out with some of the team all day. Just got back.”

_ “I can’t wait for our next day off,” _ Jamie sighs dreamily, _ “I’m gonna sleep all day.” _

Tyler snorts, but he can feel a fond smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Call me when that day comes. I’ll come over and we can cuddle.”

_ “Who said I like to cuddle?” _

“Jamie,” says Tyler.

_ “Fine, okay, I like to cuddle.” _ He chuckles tiredly. There’s a pause, before he says, _ “I wish you were here.” _

Tyler’s heart stutters.

“Yeah?”

_ “Yeah,” _ Jamie breathes a long, quiet breath, a signal that he’s lulling into sleep. His eyes flutter, _ “I miss you.” _

Tyler’s throat is clogged, thick with the sudden onslaught of emotions being thrown at him. “Jamie…”

But Jamie’s drifted asleep, phone slowly slipping from his fingers. It makes Tyler smile, but his worries amplify. Jamie’s never been this tired after a flight. 

“Goodnight, Jamie.” He says, and hangs up. He puts his phone on the sink and finishes showering, concern tugging behind his ribs. When he gets out, he ignores his underwear and pajamas in favor of going to his laptop to book a roundtrip ticket to Toronto.

-

He gets in at three in the morning. 

He’s tired, but awake enough to call a cab. Jamie’s private snapchat says that he’s at one of the Chelsea hotels — which totally isn’t stalker-ish. At all. 

He makes it to the lobby before he realizes that he doesn’t know what room Jamie is in.

He sighs. He really didn’t want to wake Jamie unless he was knocking on the door — he wants to be cliché, okay? It’s cute. But, he ditches his plan, plants himself on the couch in the lobby, and calls Jamie. 

It takes three tries before he picks up with a slurred, _ “Huh?” _

Tyler’s way too fond of this guy.

“Hey, it’s me,” he says, soft so he doesn’t startle Jamie too awake, “Hey. What room are you in?”

_ “Whuh?” _

“Room number, Jamie. What’s your room number?”

_ “Uh-” _ he says, _ “B223.” _

Within the time that they’ve known each other, Tyler’s figured out that when Jamie’s sleepy, he doesn’t think. He’s got no filter. If he’s asked a question, he answers, no matter if it was a secret or an out-of-the-blue question like what room number he was currently sleeping in. He doesn’t question why. 

“Okay. See you soon.” Tyler says, then hangs up. 

He makes his way to the elevator, up to the second floor, and down the hall until he reaches 223. He knocks, not too loud, but enough that Jamie will hear.

It takes a few knocks, but eventually, the door swings open to reveal a disheveled-looking Jamie, eyes sleepy and half naked. 

“Tyler?”

“Hey, I came to cuddle.” Tyler smiles, lopsided and toothy, like it wasn’t insane that he flew all the way from Dallas to Toronto in the middle of the night because his friend was sad and wanted cuddles.

Jamie just blinks at him. Tyler shrivels a little under his gaze. “You- uh, you said you missed me, so I figured maybe- I’d come and help you sleep. Cause you’ve been having trouble. Sleeping.”

Shit. Maybe this wasn’t such a good-

Jamie throws his arms around Tyler and yanks him into the room, luggage blocking the door from slamming shut for all the hall to hear. Jamie pulls Tyler close and buries his nose into his hair. Tyler sighs a breath of relief and slinks his arms around Jamie’s waist. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Jamie breathes, words muffled by Tyler’s hair. 

Tyler shrugs. “You needed me.”

He didn’t mean to say that, and he freezes once the words come out of his mouth. But Jamie just holds him tighter and says, “Yeah, I do.”

Warmth pools in Tyler’s chest, but he ignores it in favor of running a hand up and down Jamie’s back and coaxing him away from the doorway. “Come on, big guy. Let's get you to bed.”

He takes the luggage out from the door jam and puts it in the corner. Once he’s sure Jamie won’t trip if he gets up in his delirious state, he helps Jamie back to bed without falling, throws the blankets over him so he’s nice and tucked. 

Cautiously, Tyler slips into the spot next to him, dragging the covers over him so it traps all the heat. Jamie’s already drifting again, but Tyler doesn’t know his boundaries for something like this.

“Hey,” he whispers, hand resting against Jamie’s bicep, “What do you need from me?”

Jamie doesn’t respond, just tosses a heavy arm over Tyler’s waist and drags him in close. Tyler’s head makes impact with Jamie’s clavicle, so he scoots himself up to where he can tuck his face into Jamie’s neck. Jamie’s still got some tensed muscles, and there’s a vein more prominent than usual on his forehead thag Tyler knows only shows up when he’s stressed.

He moves the hand smushed against the mattress to settle in between his and Jamie’s chests. The hand on his bicep moves under Jamie’s arm to wrap around his back. He curls himself into Jamie’s embrace, who happily presses Tyler as close as possible and shoves his face into Tyler’s neck. He’s shaking slightly. 

Tyler lifts his head to press his face against Jamie’s cheek and the back of his neck where it’s bent. “I’ve got you.” 

Tyler stays awake until Jamie falls asleep, before following suit. For the first time since the beginning of August, Jamie sleeps through the night. 

-

It’s Jamie that wakes Tyler the following morning. He startles, and would have bucked Tyler off of him — and the bed — if it wasn’t for the fact that Tyler was wrapped around him like an octopus. 

When Jamie realizes it's Tyler, he calms, muscles relaxing and arms coming back down to curl around him. His eyes are big and wide when Tyler meets them.

“Hi,“ says Jamie, voice tight and full of disbelief.

“Hi,” says Tyler right back.

“You’re in Toronto.” 

“I’m in Toronto.”

“Why?” Jamie asks, but he doesn’t sound mad, just very confused as he buries his face back in the safe space between Tyler’s neck and clavicle. 

Tyler’s hand starts the up-down motion across his back again. “You’ve been working yourself too hard. I didn’t know how to help you when you’re away, and then you said that you missed me. And we made plans to cuddle whenever you got a day off so- I figured maybe it would help if I moved up your cuddle appointment.”

Jamie snorts our a laugh, smile pressed against Tyler’s skin. “I can’t believe you’d do this.”

Tyler shrugs, hand moving up to run through Jamie’s hair. “I’d do anything for you.” He finds himself admitting, but it’s too late now. It’s out there.

But Jamie doesn’t flinch back, or frown. He _ blushes. _Tyler can feel his cheeks getting hot against his neck. 

Jamie’s phone alarm cuts through the silence. Tyler definitely does not shriek. 

Jamie laughs at him while reaching over Tyler to the nightstand to shut the alarm off. He’s got to balance on his forearm, and then his hand, and then rapidly — and quite harshly — taps his phone to get it to silence when it refuses to turn off. It ends up falling off the nightstand, which causes Jamie to lose his balance. Tyler reaches out to steady him by his shoulders just as Jamie moves completely over Tyler to keep from slipping and cracking his head on the side of the table. His hand lands on the mattress right beside Tyler’s head, bracketing him in. 

When Tyler looks up at him, their noses just barely brush together with their close proximity. He sees Jamie’s eyes flicker down to his lips, then back to his eyes and- oh. 

Jamie leans down to press their lips together, soft and cautious, like he’s testing the waters. He pulls away to look at Tyler again, so Tyler brings his head up to kiss Jamie himself, hand curling around the back of Jamie’s neck to keep him in place.

It’s sloppy as they try to fit their mouths together, but when they get it right it’s- it’s not perfect, but it’s _ good. _ It’s great. Jamie’s gentle, but almost demanding, like he wants Tyler to know that it’s _ Jamie _ kissing him, _ Jamie _ making him whimper, that _ Jamie _is the one in control. 

Jamie breaks off to suck Tyler’s bottom lip between his teeth, nipping at the skin, before diving back in. He goes harder this time, shifting on his knees into a better position to where he can get better leverage. Tyler coils his hands around Jamie’s neck and spreads his legs a little wider so Jamie has more room between them. 

They break away for some ungodly reason. Tyler’s lips are puffy and bright pink, spit-slick, and there’s a dot of blood where Jamie bit too hard. He takes his thumb and wipes away the spot, brushing across the rest of his swollen lip. 

“Hi,” Tyler says dumbly.

Jamie’s laugh his breathless, accompanied by a soft smile. “Hi.”

-

Val calls Tyler himself on the 19th.

Jamie’s at practice, which means Tyler’s left alone for hours to sit in the middle of his bed and stare at the wall. It’s where Jamie finds him when he comes back, freshly showered and fighting off the dogs. They nearly knock him over in their excitement to see him again, but Tyler can’t find it in him to smile at it.

“Ty?” Jamie asks, voice soft as he shuffles his way down the hall to the bedroom. He sits down next to Tyler on the bed, bed dipping with his weight, and slides a hand across his back to curl his arm around his waist.

“I just-” he chokes out, throat clogging with despair, “I know he wasn’t doing well, but- he was my _ rookie.” _He covers his hand with his mouth, unable to stop the sob that comes tearing from his throat.

Jamie pulls him close, letting Tyler cry into his shoulder, hands balling up his shirt like an upset child. He rests his chin on top of Tyler’s head, rocking him back and forth. 

When Tyler’s calm enough, he’ll run him a bath and give him a soap mohawk to make him smile again; for now, though, he’s content to sit here and hold Tyler for however long he needs, in his own private way to say goodbye to his best friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss Val :(


	6. Chapter 6

_ August 2019 _

* * *

Dating Jamie isn’t that different from being best friends with Jamie. They still FaceTime whenever Jamie’s away, and Tyler still goes over to his apartment to kick his ass at Mario Kart. They still argue over pancakes and waffles, and they still wrestle one another for the remote to choose which Netflix movie to watch. 

The only difference, really, is that when they hang up on FaceTime, Jamie says,  _ “Night, baby,”  _ and whoever wins at Mario Kart decides who’s the little spoon. After they stop screaming at each other about the better breakfast choice, Jamie feeds him waffle bits and kisses him whenever he eats a pancake. When they wrestle each other for the remote, it almost always ends in a make-out session — whether it’s on the couch, or the bed, or the hardwood. 

It’s — pleasant, to say the least. He likes the feeling of having someone constantly there. If he’s sad, Jamie knows immediately. If he’s tired, he can just call Jamie and he’ll be over in fifteen minutes with hot chocolate and fuzzy blankets for a massive cuddle fest with Tyler and the dogs. 

Things start getting left at Tyler’s place. 

It’s a big house — he wants his boys to live in luxury, okay? — so it takes a few weeks for him to come across a shirt while doing the laundry that is  _ not _ his. But, huh, he can recall Jamie wearing it a week ago at lunch, and yesterday, when Jamie came over to help cook dinner and Marshall ran into the kitchen island, knocking the flour all over them. 

Tyler shrugs, looks at the tag, and throws it in with the darks. Probably just an accident. 

But then Tyler finds a blue phone charger, and it’s  _ Android.  _ Tyler has Apple. But Jamie’s got Android because, and he quotes, “Imagine having technology where it’s producer slows down its devices so you can buy the new stuff.”

Tyler had laughed at him at the time, it now it’s a rush of cold water over his head. It’s probably nothing. He texts Jamie, asks if he wants his charger back, but is stunned when he gets back  _ ‘I already bought a new one. Just leave it there I guess’ _ .

It’s not just the shirt and charger, either. He finds another shirt, a pair of sweats, and a hoodie all spewed across his house. So Jamie’s either leaving them there on accident, because he’s comfortable enough to leave his things with Tyler — flattering — or it’s on purpose, and he wants Tyler to find them. 

Either way, if Jamie’s leaving his clothes at Tyler’s house, it must be obvious permission to take the clothes and wear them himself. He’s already snatched up one of Jamie’s hoodies — he sneakily took it out of Jamie’s duffel at the hotel that night and stuffed it into his own suitcase as soon as they were official. 

He does take Jamie’s shirt, though, and wears it when he goes over to Jamie’s apartment for dinner with him and Jordie. Neither Benn brother mentions the shirt, but he sees a tiny smile peeking at the corner of Jamie’s mouth as he’s frying the chicken, so Tyler thinks he chose correctly. 

-

_ September 2019  
_

* * *

Tyler comes down with a cold the first week of September. 

It’s nothing big, just a little stomach bug and a fever, but Jamie acts like it’s the plague. He’s at practice, and still has another hour and a half before he can leave. 

_ I’m okay,  _ Tyler sends,  _ Stop worrying.  _

He’s got to run to the bathroom to puke again, and is there for ten minutes, hunched over the bowl in agony. When he’s made his way back to his bed and shuffled into a blanket burrito, he sees that Jamie’s sent him seven text messages, all ones asking if he’s okay, that he’s going to leave practice to make sure he’s not dead. 

Tyler shoots him a quick, _ Stop freaking _ ,  _ I’m fine. _

_ I’ll be over as soon as practice is done.  _ Jamie sends him, and before Tyler can say no, he falls asleep.

He wakes to a gentle hand on his forehead, pressed cool against his heated skin. He groans, blinking his eyes open to see Jamie crouched by the edge of the bed, soft eyes watching Tyler worriedly.

“Hey babe,” Tyler croaks. His voice burns from throwing up so much.

“Hey,” Jamie says and kisses Tyler’s temple, “How’re you feeling?”

Tyler snuggles against Jamie’s hand. “Okay. I’m not as nauseous anymore.”

“Good. I made you some soup if you’re hungry.”

“Mm. Maybe in a minute.” He opens the flap of his burrito blanket in a welcoming manner, bud Jamie knows it’s a demand when Tyler says, “I just wanna cuddle for a bit.”

Jamie wastes no time climbing into bed and tucking himself in the blankets. Tyler sags against him, squeezing his arms tight around Jamie’s midsection. “You’re the best.”

“Get some sleep.” Jamie laughs, and Tyler’s powerless to do anything but.

-

Tyler wakes up to a nearly-pitch black room and quiet talking. 

He’s still curled up into Jamie’s side, hand on his chest and legs tangled together, his head stuffed between his pec and armpit. Jamie’s talking to someone — on the phone, he realizes a moment later — and closes his eyes to listen to the gentle rumble of Jamie’s voice vibrating through his chest.

“I made him some soup, but he fell asleep before he could eat some. I’ll try again when he wakes up,” he hears Jamie say, “No, I don’t think he’s been. It’s a virus, so I’ll just give him so ibuprofen and see if it gets worse.”

Tyler tries to imagine seeing Jamie dressed up in scrubs and a white lab coat, and he can see it, but he’d much rather keep Jamie in his baseball uniform and stupid cap.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll keep you updated. It’s no problem. Okay, bye.” 

Jamie hangs up and sets the phone on the bedside table. Tyler gets a glance at the screen. It’s a picture of Tyler’s mom.

Tyler doesn’t think about how easily Jamie talked to his mom — the fact that Jamie has his mother’s contact in general — because that’s too much all at once. Instead, he snuggles into the feel of Jamie shifting to lay on his side, wrap his arms tight around Tyler and draw him close, and decides that he can face that in the morning.

-

He decidedly does not face that in the morning.

He was going to, but then he took one sip of Jamie’s fucking stellar chicken noodle soup with extra big noodles and couldn’t talk for an hour because he was too busy stuffing his face with it. 

“You’re a god.” He says with a mouthful of soup.

Jamie doesn’t have practice, so he gets to stay with Tyler before he, regretfully, has to get to the game. He wants to stay, but he already skipped the game last night with the excuse of a “family emergency,” and he can’t miss this one. They’ve got one more game against Seattle after tonight and then Jamie has to get on a plane to New fucking York, two thousand miles away from Tyler and his poor fever. 

Tyler drugs himself up with ibuprofen and a cold compress, then locks Jamie out of the bedroom, demanding that he, “Get to the game,  _ Mom.” _

He hears Jamie squawk indignantly, shout, “See if I ever do anything for  _ you _ again,” and slam the front door shut.

He returns after the game with a bag full of Olive Garden and an extra fluffy blanket. Tyler smiles, half asleep, and curls into Jamie when he wraps the blanket around them in the bed. The aroma of butter and fettuccine alfredo wafts through the air, soothing Tyler’s headache and sending him into a gentle sleep, heartbeat falling in synch with Jamie’s.

-

Jamie wakes up in the early of the morning, when the sun is just barely peeking over the horizon. The orange of the sky spills through the open window and settles on Tyler’s sleeping frame, tucked tight against Jamie’s front, clinging tight. 

He’s not radiating heat anymore, which means his fever broke sometime in the night. He’s got his face smushed against Jamie’s pec, lips mouthing minutely against his shirt in his sleep — probably dreaming about talking. As if he doesn’t talk a ton when he’s awake. What a dork.

But, Jamie thinks, Tyler is  _ his  _ dork. He lays his cheek on the top of Tyler’s head, and goes back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I’m writing but it’s here and we’re progressing and I think that’s all that really matters


	7. Chapter 7

_ October 2019 _

* * *

The Rangers’ season ended on the cusp of October, when Tyler’s season is about to begin.

Their two month anniversary — the official day that Jamie asked Tyler to be his boyfriend — falls on the Stars season opener against the Bruins.

There’s a barbecue the night before hosted at Tyler’s house. He’s the captain, and since the ‘C’ was sewn onto his sweater, he’s hosted a barbecue before the season opener every year.

_ “Are you sure you want me to come?” _ Jamie asks over the phone as Tyler’s piling his shopping cart with steaks. The woman looking at the chicken breasts is staring at him. _ “Your team doesn’t know about us.” _

Jamie told his team the day after they got together. They’d been tearing at him to take the plunge, to go for it. His team is tight and when something happened between the two of them, his team was the first to know. Shawn Kelley called him one day to ask if Wingstop was a good date place — just to chirp him.

At first, Tyler had worried, but Jamie was right when he said that baseball was different than hockey, belief wise. It’s not as harsh. 

“Will you hate me if I don’t tell my team yet?” Tyler had asked, nervous, and Jamie had kissed his hair and assured him that as long as Tyler was comfortable, he didn’t mind at all.

“Of course I want you to come,” Tyler scoffs, “If they have a problem with it, they can find a new team.”

_ “Well that’s harsh,” _ Jamie chuckles, _ “Are you...planning on telling them? Tomorrow night?” _

Tyler’s been considering it, and he’d laid in bed for twenty minutes that morning trying to figure out what the fuck to do.

“I’m going to drink shitty beer, grill the fuck out of some steaks, and kiss you in front of everyone. If they see, then they see.”

The woman is walking away now. He hopes she doesn't know who he is. 

_ “Segs…” _

“Those guys are my team,” he says stubbornly, “But you mean a hell of a lot more to me than their opinions.”

Jamie doesn’t respond for a bit, giving Tyler a chance to throw another four steaks into his cart before moving on to the frozen foods isle. He checks to see if the line had disconnected, but sees that Jamie’s still there. “Babe?”

_ “Sorry,” _ he says, _ “I just didn’t expect- you’re an incredible person, Tyler Seguin.” _

Tyler grins and throws a bag of green beans over his shoulder, hoping they landed in the cart. “I know.”

-

Rads is the first to arrive the next night, and offers to help with the food.

“You’re a guest, you’re not helping with dinner,” Tyler snorts, “But if you really want to, you could heat the grill for the steaks.”

Rads beams at the job and takes off for the backyard, Cash taking chase behind him. Marshall and Gerry are at his feet, chins on their paws in wait for food.

“Naughty boys.” Tyler tsks, dumping a bag of veggies into a bowl and shoving it into the microwave.

The door opens, and neither dog moves until a voice calls out, “Ty?” Upon hearing Jamie’s voice, Gerry takes off, leaping on him and effectively slamming him into the wall, completely caught off guard.

“Traitor,” Tyler huffs, then looks down at Marshall to drop scraps for him, “At least I know you love me.”

Jamie rounds the corner into the kitchen, keys in hand, Gerry on his heels. His keys look like they belong to a high school sophomore. He’s in a light grey v-neck, a pair of bluejeans with grass stains on the knees, and a worn snapback. Tyler would bet good money that it’s a Rangers cap.

“Hey babe.” Jamie makes his way to the stove and greets him with a kiss, soothing Gerry down with headpats. Tyler twists the snapback forwards. It’s a Rangers ‘T’. Bingo. 

Jamie kisses him a second time. It’s a little peck, and Tyler’s immediately left wanting more, so he greedily leans up and kisses him again, longer this time. Frankly, he would have let Jamie push him up against the counter if it wasn’t for Rads shouting, _ “I fucking knew it,” _and throwing an apple at their heads.

Jamie hits the ground, probably a reflex, and Tyler goes sailing backwards, spine making impact with the stove.

“Ow,” Tyler whines, “You’re an ass.”

_ “Me _ an ass?” Rads gapes, _ “You _an ass. You said you and Benn weren’t anything.”

“We weren’t!” Tyler defends, helping Jamie off the ground. “But we are now.”

Rads makes for the orange in the fruit bowl, and both Jamie and Tyler raise their hands in surrender. Rads squints at them and slowly puts the orange back. 

“In my defense,” Tyler said cautiously, standing in front of Jamie to protect him from his crazy Russian teammate, “I haven’t told anyone on the team. You’re the only one who knows.”

Rads still look suspicious, but seems to accept the olive branch Tyler’s desperately thrusting in his face. “When you tell the others?”

Tyler shrugs, “It’s not like they randomly announce when they’re dating someone. If they don’t have to, I don’t have to. They’ll find out if they pay attention.”

“I get bragging rights,” bargains Rads, “I saw this coming even before the two of you did.”

“Deal.” Tyler accepts it immediately and clasps hands with his teammate. Then, his cheeks get pink as he moves to bring Jamie forward. “I- uh, I don’t think you’ve been properly introduced. Jamie, this is Alexander Radulov; we call him Rads. Rads, this is Jamie- my boyfriend.”

Jamie, suddenly the color of a piece of printer paper, extends a hand out to the Russian. “Nice to meet you. Tyler’s told me a lot about you.”

Rads takes his hand with a beaming grin. “I am Alexander! Segs does not shut up about you.”

Tyler’s face gets hot, but his microwave saves him by blaring an alarm to let everyone know that it’s done cooking whatever’s inside. Tyler can’t even remember what he put inside, but he goes running to dish it up, grateful for the distraction.

Once the vegetables are in a bowl and are cooling on the kitchen island, he turns to look for Jamie, but finds him missing.

Find Gerry, find Jamie, because Gerry loves Jamie more than he loves Tyler. He can’t blame him. 

He locates Gerry laying pitifully in front of the back door. He looks through the screen, and there’s Jamie, cooking some of the steaks while Rads laughs at something he says, beer popped open and half gone already. He smiles, relieved to know that he’s got at least one teammate in his corner — and Miro, whenever he gets here — and opens the door to let Gerry out.

Gerry goes scrambling down the steps and runs straight into Jamie’s legs. He’s ready this time, though, and does not collapse when Gerry makes impact. A swell of fondness erupts behind his ribs, and when Rads meets his eyes, he winks, pleased and proud.

Tyler prepares them rest of the steaks with his chest puffed out and grin on his lips.

-

His pride slowly deflates as more people start arriving, morphing into nerves and genuine fear. He wasn't lying when he said that Jamie meant more to him than the team’s opinions, but he doesn’t want them to have _ bad _ opinions of him. Those are his guys. If Miro and Rads are the only ones who are supportive, there’s a possibility he could be _ traded, _if it starts affecting their play on the ice.

Tyler watches his team and their families mingling from the doorway of the hallway, backed into an alcove where he’s hidden away. The sun’s going down soon. People have taken notice to Jamie, and he’s heard whispers of questions as to what he’s doing here. Rads and Miro have played dumb for Tyler’s sake. He loves his friends, really.

“Hey,” Jamie startles him, coming up behind him, “There’s this awesome thing called breathing. You should try it sometime.”

Tyler takes a steady, deep breath in, but it’s shaky when he lets it out. Jamie rests a comforting hand on the small of his back. “You’ve got a bunch of wood in the firepit, right? And the boxes from the new couch? We should have a bonfire.”

Tyler glances at him. “You think?”

Jamie nods. “You could use the distraction. Besides, I think it would be fun. You can say it’s ‘burning all of the negativity before the new season,’ or something.

“Why don’t we burn the Preds franchise? I like that idea.” Tyler mutters, before turning to him. “Alright. You’ll help me?”

“Of course.”

Tyler yells at the top of his lungs to get everyone’s attention. Once the house is silent, he composes himself enough to announce, “For anyone that’s interested, we’re going to start a bonfire in the back, if you’d like to come.”

“S’mores!” Johns demands, and is met with a chorus of agreements.

Jamie gathers armfuls of graham crackers and chocolate while Tyler grabs the marshmallows, and the crowd goes marching to the firepit in the middle of the backyard. 

Once a lighter is found, Tyler sets the stuff on fire. He does as Jamie suggested as the wood goes up in smoke, imagining it’s the Preds, their rough defense and sloppy offensive issues. He watches as the cardboard is swallowed by the flames, and imagines it’s his worries, that the day Tyler comes out officially, to the team, to the Stars organization, all the fans, that they’ll accept him with open arms. 

He closes his eyes against the heat of the fire and prays, just for a moment, that when he turns around, he’ll have a team that won’t look at him any differently after tonight. 

He feels a hand on his shoulder. When he turns, Jamie’s behind him, face gentle, offering a wine cooler that’s cold and still sweating. Black Cherry. Jamie’s lips tasted like cherries last night, when they’d made out for an hour on Jamie’s living room couch, because of the lip balm he’d been wearing. 

Tyler takes it and twists the cap off with his bicep, then leans over to kiss him thank you. It’s quick, purposefully made to seem nonchalant and not like the entirety of his life could potentially come crumbling down because of it. He chugs half the drink in seconds, then takes Jamie’s hand and leads him over to Roope to talk.

He glances around after a little while, and notices there’s only a few people looking at him like he’s got three heads. Most aren’t paying any mind, despite Tyler knowing for a fact that a couple of them they saw him kiss Jamie. He’s not sure what that means.

The Spotify playlist changes to a country song. All the players with wives or girlfriends that they brought along drag them out of their chairs to dance. It’s some Luke Bryan song that Tyler’s heard it once or twice, enough that he can hum along to some of the notes.

Jamie settles into one of the chairs and puts his hands on Tyler’s slender hips, tugging him down. Tyler tries to shift to find the right spot, but Jamie huffs in frustration, so he stops and lets Jamie maneuver him to where he wants him, half on his thigh and half in his lap, legs splayed apart enough that Tyler doesn’t feel like he’s sitting on logs. It’s comfortable. 

He leans back against his boyfriend, the side of his head pressed against Jamie’s while he nurses his wine cooler and watches his team twirl their ladies around. There are some on his team that won’t meet his eye, but the more he watches, the more he sees his teammates sending him reassuring smiles, even a few looks that Tyler could interpret as relief.

And okay, Tyler’s slightly offended that they thought he was too dumb to get his shit together.

He doesn’t realize Jamie’s speaking to him until he feels something bump his lips. He blinks back to reality to notice Jamie holding a s’more up to his face. “Bite.”

Tyler does as commanded, munching hard into the s’more, feeling the crackers shatter beneath his teeth. He laughs, crumbs spewing everywhere when he tries to break the stretch of the marshmallow with his tongue. All it does is get chocolate all over his mouth.

“You’re dumb,” Jamie says fondly. 

Tyler licks off all the chocolate and grins, internally smug when he sees Jamie’s eyes tracking the movement of his tongue. “Yes.”

Jamie snorts, pops the rest of the s’more into his own mouth, and pulls Tyler closer as the music changes.

Tyler’s half asleep and comfortably buzzed when people start leaving. He doesn’t move from Jamie’s lap to see them out, but reaches up and clasps each of them by the hands in some stupid handshake that college guys would do. They hit his shoulder, or maybe his arm, wish him goodnight and smile those secret smiles Miro’s been teaching them, saying things like ‘It’s about time’ or ‘Nice catch, buddy’.” 

Some didn’t see the kiss, Tyler knows, and so say goodbye as they normally do. There are a handful that hardly say anything to him, rookies that don’t know him very well or players he isn’t on lines with that often, just simple “see you tomorrow”s or “cool party.” Tyler doesn’t want to think about them, or what that means. 

There are a few guys, Johns for instance, that grimaces a little at the two of them when he says goodbye, but pats him on the shoulder in support and says, “See ya tomorrow, bud.” Tyler can live with that. 

“That’s a good guy, right there.” He says through his mouth tinted red, watching as Johns walks away. Jamie says nothing, but squeezes Tyler’s hips in silent response. 

When the fire’s dwindling and the only ones left are Miro and Bish, Jamie puts out the fire with the hose while Tyler sees his friends off.

“It’s about time.” Bish chirps him, going in for a hug. “Happy for you, man. You deserve a good guy like Jamie.”

Jamie is currently chasing Miro with the hose. Tyler is absolutely gone for this man.

“Ew, heart eyes, stop it.” Bish grimaces. “Save that lovey dovey shit for the bedroom.”

They haven’t done much except a few make out sessions in the front seat of Jamie’s truck (fond memories) but all Tyler can think about his how badly he wants to suck Jamie’s dick as a thank you for being the geeky, awkward human being that Tyler’s endeared to.

_ “Ew.” _Bish repeats. “Kay, you two have fun with that. I’m going to wash my eyes out with bleach.” 

He makes a gagging sound, prompting Tyler to shove at him with a giggle, “You’re obnoxious.” 

“Yessir.” Bish salutes him. “Now, I’m going home. We’ve got a game to win tomorrow.”

“Fuck yeah we do.” Tyler grins and fistbumps him.

When Bish is gone, Tyler spins around to look for Miro, and finds him right behind him, soaking wet.

“He attacked me,” says Miro.

“How dare you,” says Tyler to Jamie, taking Miro into his arms despite how wet he is.

Jamie holds his hands up in surrender. 

Miro ends up staying over, a little too drunk to drive for Tyler’s liking. He gets him a dry pair of clothes and sends him off to the guest bedroom. Miro hugs them both goodnight, smiles all sweet at them, and disappears upstairs.

Tyler and Jamie get everything cleaned up downstairs, before Jamie goes for the stairs.

“Kiss me,” Tyler says, grabbing his wrist, “Please.”

Jamie cups his face and kisses him without question, then gets his nose, and follows Tyler upstairs. Jamie changes into a pair of pajamas while Tyler strips to nothing but his underwear. Jamie whistles like the dog he is.

“So,” Tyler tells him, wiggling under the covers and rolling onto his stomach, chin propped up on his hands, “I didn’t plan on Miro staying over, but I’m still gonna blow you, so you’ll have to be super quiet okay?”

Jamie blinks at him.

“Awesome.” Tyler says and reaches for Jamie’s shorts. 

Jamie’s already chubbing up by the time Tyler gets his shorts around his knees. There’s a defining outline of his dick through his boxer briefs. Tyler’s felt it before — you can’t make out with Tyler Seguin in your lap and _ not _ get turned on — but he’s never actually seen it. 

He caresses the length of it with his thumb through the material of his underwear, tracing it down the middle. Jamie shivers above him and opens his legs wider so Tyler can slink in between them and drape his torso over Jamie’s hips.

“You make me feel like a dumb teenager.” Tyler says, then dips his head down to mouth at his cock through his underwear. Jamie scratches his nails down his thighs, making little crescent marks against his skin.

“You can touch me,” Tyler tells him, pulling down his underwear, “You can always touch me.” 

Jamie’s dick his hard and thick, gleaming at the tip with precome. It makes a little wet noise when it slaps against his abs, perfect for the taking. Tyler shuffles forward and wraps his lips around the tip, sucking.

Jamie grunts, hands flying to Tyler’s head to curl one against the back of his neck and one to bury in his hair. Tyler licks at the slit and takes him down a little more. He hasn’t sucked dick in a long time, so his gag reflex isn’t as practiced anymore. It’s gotta warm up to it, but he’s not complaining about it, and by the sound of it, neither is Jamie.

He sucks harder as he goes down more, eyes fluttering when Jamie bucks minutely and shoves himself a little farther in. He hums, stretching his jaw wider. Jamie’s a decent size, more thick than he is long. It’s still enough to make him gag, but it’s mind over matter for Tyler, who relaxes his throat and takes him down the rest of the way.

“That’s good,” Jamie sighs, and when Tyler glances up at him, he sees Jamie staring right back at him with dark, hooded eyes and parted lips. 

Tyler groans, unable to stop himself from grinding his hips into the bed. One of Jamie’s hands comes down to tangle into Tyler’s hair, the other settling on the back of his neck. Tyler starts moving, slow bobbing motions that make Jamie’s toes curl. 

Tyler pulls off to catch his breath, licks up and down and all over Jamie’s dick like it’s a fucking lollipop — as far as Tyler is concerned, it _ is. _He gets it nice and wet and makes Jamie pant up at the ceiling, before going down as far as he can, sucking hard as he goes. 

“Fuck, just like that.” Jamie huffs. The hand on Tyler’s neck slides into his hair. “Baby can you-” 

Tyler grazes his teeth lightly up his dick, sending Jamie into a trembling mess. He starts up with a faster speed, the hand not being used for balance dipping down to cup Jamie’s balls. He’s really not in any rush, even though he knows Jamie kind of is, wants to get off, and Tyler’s half convinced to just bury his nose is Jamie’s pubes and stay there. 

But Jamie would be in agony — _ is _ in agony, considering how tense his muscles are to stop himself from bucking — so Tyler takes pity, pulls off again and says, “Fuck my face.”

Jamie makes a choking sound, like he didn’t expect that, but wastes no time in twisting his fingers in Tyler’s hair and thrusting up into his mouth. Tyler’s hands come to rest on Jamie’s hips, tongue lapping across the bottom of Jamie’s dick on each outstroke. 

Jamie gets there fast, and Tyler helps him out with tiny grunts and hums, some involuntary when he breathes at the wrong moment and chokes a little. 

_ “Shit.” _Jamie curses when Tyler caresses the skin of Jamie’s balls, and comes down his throat.

Tyler pulls back a little, letting his come spurt onto his tongue. He suckles until Jamie’s twistching in oversensitivity, lets his cock fall from his mouth with a string of spit breaking off and landing on his lip. 

Tyler crawls up the bed and flops on top of Jamie’s sweaty chest. Jamie’s arms slink around him, resting on the dip of his back. “Give me five minutes,” he breathes, “and I’ll finger you.”

Tyler shudders in his arms, pressing his lips softly against Jamie’s neck. “Lube’s in the drawer.” He sighs happily and curls a leg over Jamie’s. 

He’s so lost in sucking hickeys into Jamie’s skin, his collarbone, the space right above where the collar of his uniform shirt would be — because he’s feeling a little possessive, okay? — that he doesn’t realize Jamie’s moved at all until he feels a lube-slicked finger prod at his hole then slowly, gently, push inside.

Tyler kind of melts into a puddle, having Jamie’s big finger inside him. He feels Jamie smile against his forehead, crooking and wiggling his finger before adding another. It’s been a while since Tyler’s had anything inside him, so it’s an odd but familiar sensation, and one that’s wholey welcome when Jamie nudges that little sweet spot with the tips of his fingers.

Jamie brings him to the edge with two fingers, a constant, steady rhythm against his prostate, but it’s only when Jamie slips in a third that Tyler comes hard all over his stomach and Jamie’s hip. 

Jamie shoves Tyler off him, and Tyler tumbles onto his back with a come-dumb giggle. Jamie haphazardly wipes them off with the edge of the sheets, before kicking them to the end of the bed and pulling the duvet up to blanket them. Tyler shuffles over and curls into Jamie, tucking himself tight against him.

“This is gonna be your year,” Jamie tells him, soft and sure in his ear, “I just know it.”

And Tyler believes him. He can do just about anything, as long as Jamie keeps telling him he can, looking at him like he’s his entire fucking world. 

(As far as Tyler’s concerned, Jamie’s _ his _entire fucking world, so that’s all that really matters.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a winter classic chapter coming soon but for now I gave you bonfires and smut and hope it makes up for it.


	8. Chapter 8

_ October 2019_

* * *

Jamie knows what it’s like to be without Tyler. The thing is— the thing is, Jamie’s had the constant reminder in the back of his head that Tyler was usually always available, because it was the offseason.

But now the tables have turned and _ Jamie’s _the one left at home, having to wait for Tyler to communicate with him whenever he’s finally free. 

It’s- less than ideal.

Jamie finds himself staying at Tyler’s place more often than not. At first, he told himself it was to take care of the dogs, but eventually chalked it up to the fact that the dogs are all that’s left of Tyler.

So maybe he’s being a bit overdramatic. Tyler comes back, a _ lot. _Not like Jamie, who’s gone at least three days per opponent, not unless he’s on a longer road trip. 

It’s not until Tyler brings it up that he realizes he hasn’t left Tyler’s house since the night of the bonfire. 

“I’m not complaining,” Tyler says, standing shirtless in front of the stove as he flips the bacon in his special bacon pan — his mother got it for him when he first moved to Boston and only uses it for bacon. Jamie doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t question — “I just thought- I dunno.”

Jamie’s face is red and mortified, because he hadn’t even _ realized. _He hopes he has enough of a beard to hide how hard he’s blushing. “Just thought- what?”

Tyler’s arm pauses, letting the bacon sizzle in the grease. After a while, he shrugs, stiff, and keeps his back towards Jamie. “I don’t know. Just thought that maybe you didn’t want to leave.”

There’s a tenseness in Tyler’s voice, and Jamie never wants to hear it again. He waits until Tyler’s put all the bacon on the plate and shut off the burner before he gets up, chair skidding against the tile, and moves to stand behind him. “I don’t.”

Tyler whips his head around, eyes wide and vulnerable. “You don’t?”

Jamie shakes his head. “No. I didn’t even realize I hadn’t left. It’s become so routine here, when you’re here, when you’re gone.”

Tyler searches Jamie’s eyes for something — Tyler’s always been good at reading eyes. He must find whatever he was looking for, because his shoulders relax and his smile melts a little, and his hands come up to rub up and down Jamie’s arms soothingly. “Why don’t you just stay, then?”

Jamie swallows nervously. “For how long?”

Tyler shrugs, “However long you want to.” He lifts himself up on his tiptoes and presses a gentle, tender kiss to Jamie’s mouth, through his horrible beard and all his pricklies. 

“Forever.” Jamie sighs, wraps his arms around Tyler and drags him close. Tyler kisses him again, hand coming up to cup the back of Jamie’s head and drag his nails through the short-cut hair. Jamie hums happily and presses Tyler against the counter, more than happy to make out with his boyfriend until God rips the last breath from his lungs. 

-

The tornado touches down around nine.

Tyler gets an alert on his phone before he hears the sirens. The sirens are what gets him moving, hustling to get the dogs inside. He doesn’t have a basement, so he goes for the closet on the first floor, locking them inside with him.

Jamie had forced him to get a tornado emergency kit when he first moved into his house. There’s enough supplies to last him about a week if his house collapses on top of him and he’s unable to get out, and he hopes it doesn’t come to that. 

Which reminds him- Jamie. He needs to call Jamie. He’d only gotten off the plane from Ottawa at ten this morning. Jamie had been doing some last-minute PR stuff for the Rangers and had talked about going out for drinks tonight with a few of his teammates that were still in Texas. 

Tyler pats around in his pants to grab his phone, and his throat seizes shut when he sees that he has no service. He tries calling Jamie anyways, but he can’t get through. He tries Lites, then Bish, Miro, all of the rookies. He can’t get ahold of anyone. 

Tyler shuts off his phone and chucks the flashlight hard at the door in a fit of distress. The dogs wiggle over to him, laying on his legs and licking at his face to comfort him. Tyler pets them all, praying to whatever is listening that Jamie is safe.

Somewhere in the house, a window shatters.

Tyler doesn’t know how much time passes, but it feels like hours, by the time he gets a national alert on his phone that announces that the tornado is gone and the warning has been lifted. 

He waits a few more minutes, just in case, and when nothing happens, shoves the door open to get a look at his surroundings. He cleans up the busted window as fast as he can, tosses the glass in a Tupperware container so the dogs don’t get into it, and takes off for the door. 

They’ve been in the process of transferring Jamie’s stuff from his apartment to Tyler’s house, so he checks there first. But when Tyler slides the key through the lock and shouts for Jamie until his voice is hoarse, he finds Jamie isn’t there. 

He’s ready to search every bar in the Dallas area and beyond, when he remembers that Jamie invited Shawn to join them. Shawn, who lives right smack where the tornado tore through, who’s only a ten minute drive from Jamie’s apartment. Even if Shawn isn’t there, his wife, Kelsey, might be, and she might know what happened to Jamie.

There’s traffic — of course there’s traffic. Even after a tornado, Dallas traffic never ceases to back up the roads. It takes almost a half hour for Tyler to get to Shawn’s house, and he’s in tears by the time he pulls into his driveway. The windows have blown in, and some of the shutters have been torn off, but other than that, the house is relatively untouched. 

Kelsey is on the steps of the porch, one of her sons in her arms, the others playing on the porch as she watches Shawn heft broken tree limbs into a pile beside the house. And then he moves, and there’s _ Jamie, _ tossing a thick branch into the pile, all tan skin and terrible, _ terrible _ beard and _ alive. _Tyler could cry.

Tyler _ is _ crying, as he yanks the door open and tumbles out of the car, making a mad dash for his boyfriend. He only gets a flash of Jamie’s surprised face before he’s on him, slinging his arms around him like a koala. Jamie doesn’t ask, doesn’t speak, just wraps his arms around Tyler and drags him close, not letting go. 

In the distance, the sirens continue to wail. 

-

While Dallas is recovering, Jamie makes it his life’s mission to see one of Tyler’s games. He’s able to snatch two tickets for the 29th against Minnesota, and doesn’t tell Tyler about it.

They’re keeping their relationship on the DL, away from the media and the fans, so Jamie decides it's probably not a good idea to attend the game in Tyler’s jersey, but that’s okay. He’s got _ Tyler, _the real deal, so he settles for a soft grey Henley and a pair of black jeans, and calls Shawn and his family to come with him.

“If Seggy scores a goal and you pop a boner,” Shawn tells him as he tries to balance his nacho tray while taking their seats, “I’m leaving.”

“No promises.” Jamie says and bites off the end of a corndog that’s got way too many fat calories for his diet.

They get recognized and sign some autographs, take some pictures, but all of Jamie’s attention is on the rink as the pucks go flying and the players hit the ice for warmups. 

They’re right up against the glass, so when Tyler skates over, completely unaware of Jamie’s presence, he bangs on the glass until Tyler sees him, and watches with glee as Tyler’s face does a backflip while he tries to process that Jamie’s right in front of him. 

_ “You’re here?” _ He asks, shouting through the glass and over the music. 

Jamie just beams at him, says, “Don’t play bad.”

Tyler must hear him, because he rolls his eyes and bumps his fist against the glass. But he’s smiling, pleased and proud that Jamie’s there, there for _ him, _and he keeps smiling as he tosses a puck to a little boy and one of Kelley’s girls, then pushes his stick up and over the glass to give to a teenage girl for her seventeenth birthday. Tyler skates in front of a big brother and his baby sister, no older than two, and taps the glass until she giggles and pats it, trying to get to his glove.

Jamie’s chest clenches at the sight of him. Tyler’s good, just so _ good. _There’s no other way to explain it.

Tyler waves to him before he goes off, getting his last lap in to make sure he’s the last one off the ice, then disappears down the tunnel. 

Beside him, Shawn gags. “That look you gave him could make a sociopath ship you two.” He says, pretending to be disgusted, “I think it gave me cavities. Gonna have to call my dentist now. Sheila’s going to have a fit, you know. I hope your happy.”

Jamie munches on his corndog, pondering. “You call your dentist ‘Sheila?’”

Shawn glares at him and stuffs a nacho into his mouth.

-

It’s a horrible thing, to see Tyler sad. 

The jumbotron zooms in on him after the Wild get their third goal of the game, effectively making the score 3-0 in the middle of the second. He looks annoyed, and agitated, and _ sad, _and Jamie’s going to march right up to whoever handles the cameras and demand they leave Tyler alone.

But he doesn’t, and that’s good, because Radulov scores with forty-eight seconds left in the second, and suddenly Tyler’s face is full of determination and fire, and that fire was lit under the asses of all the players during the intermission, because Hintz scores, then Pavelski, and then Rads _ again. _

And then there’s a buck forty left in the game, and Tyler gets a pass that lands perfectly on his tape, and all he has to do is tap it in. The goal horn sounds, and Tyler gets tackled by his line, and Jamie’s on his feet hollering with the crowd.

Shawn digs his pinkie into his ear. “You sound like a pterodactyl,” he says, even though his boys are cheering just as loud.

Jamie ignores him, pumping his fist in the air as he chants the goal song with the rest of the crowd. For the first time in a long time, he’s not Jamie Benn, centerfielder for the Texas Rangers. He’s Jamie, Stars fan and the boyfriend of their captain. He’s Jamie, Tyler’s boyfriend. That’s all he wants to be. 

Radulov officially puts the game away with a hattrick. Jamie wishes he’d brought a hat to toss onto the ice for him.

He sits and waits as people file out of the arena. His phone pings with a notification, and when he turns it on, he finds it’s from Tyler.

_ Meet me at home. _

Jamie obeys.

He drops Shawn off before making his way home. Tyler’s car isn’t in the driveway or the garage, which means he’s probably still at the rink. He battles his way through the dogs to get to the kitchen, where he grabs a water bottle, then takes to the bedroom to watch tv and wait for Tyler to arrive.

It’s late, nearly eleven by the time he hears Tyler’s car pull into the drive. He’s been sporting a semi ever since Tyler landed that goal, but the memory of it, the thought of Jamie nailing him through the mattress and onto the floor, has him achingly hard and leaking already.

Jamie’s hot already, so he kicks off the comforter and leaves the sheets, thin, draped over his hips that obviously exposes the tent pushing against his boxers. He waits patiently for Tyler to come home, hand cupping the tent in the sheets to palm himself. 

He hears the front door open, the beeping of Tyler punching in the code to the security system, the sound of doggy nails skidding across the hardwood to get to their dad.

“Jamie?” Tyler calls from downstairs, “Babe?”

“Bedroom!” Jamie shouts, and grins when he hears Tyler drop his bag and head up the stairs.

It takes a minute for Tyler to get there, and Jamie’s heart gets lodged in his throat when he sees Tyler push the door open with his foot while unbuttoning his white button-up until it hangs open and exposes his torso. He freezes in his tracks when he sees Jamie, who drops his hand to the side to show his straining cock underneath the sheets.

“Fuck,” Tyler says and scrambles onto the bed. He swings his legs over Jamie’s hips and settles on his thighs, dipping down to kiss him hungrily.

“Did so good tonight,” Jamie grunts into his mouth, arms coiling around Tyler’s waist, “Got me so hot, baby.”

“Fuck yeah I did,” Tyler grins wickedly and repositions himself so he can grind down against Jamie, eyes fluttering at the groan that rumbles out of Jamie’s throat, “Worked my ass off just for you.”

Jamie sucks on his bottom lip, biting until Tyler grunts and jerks at the pain. He soothes the indentations with his tongue, then trails his hands down the cut of Tyler’s abs — fucking perfect abs, and Jamie says as much because Tyler deserves to know how gorgeous he looks — traces his v-line with his thumbs, then unzips his suit pants with deft fingers and shoves his hands inside. “Gonna nail that ass into the mattress.” 

Tyler whines and bucks into Jamie’s grip. He pushes Tyler off him so that he can get naked, and then Tyler’s leaping onto the bed again and crawling under the blankets. Jamie rolls on top of him, but when Tyler tries to chase him for a kiss, Jamie squeezes his knees into Tyler’s hips to keep him still.

He watches Tyler’s dick spurt a string of precome, his eyelids fluttering. “You like that.” Jamie says, surprised.

“Fuck you,” Tyler snaps without heat, “Now fuck me.”

Jamie grins, “If you so insist,” and reaches for the lube. He gets Tyler open on three fingers, has him writhing and bouncing down on them desperately. 

“Fuck you,” Tyler moans, shaky and on the brink of sobbing, “I’m good; I’m good.”

Jamie pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the sheets, going for the condom. Tyler stops him, hand on his wrist, “Let me do it.”

Jamie sits back on his haunches and watches with bated breath as Tyler tears open the condom packet and rolls it down his dick. Jamie can’t help the moan that slips out at the feel of Tyler’s gentle, calloused fingers ghosting down his dick. He even slicks Jamie up, then meets his eyes. “Fuck me.”

Jamie shoves Tyler down by his shoulders and pops the head of his dick inside. Tyler goes rigid beneath him. Jamie’s not an asshole, so he waits, counting all the way to fifty before Tyler gives him the okay to push in further. 

It takes less time than Jamie expected before he’s fully seated inside, hips snugged up against Tyler’s asscheeks. Tyler looks absolutely blissed, eyes closed and mouth parted and cheek pressed to the pillow, little tremors of pleasure making him jolt and flinch every few seconds.

Jamie gets a rhythm going, hands squeezing Tyler’s hips to pull them against his own on each thrust in. Tyler moans quietly, lips closed and head back. His hands scrabble for purchase on Jamie’s back when Jamie ups the pace, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Just like that, baby,” he gasps, dropping his head back as Jamie grazes over his prostate, “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Did so fuckin’ good, Ty,” Jamie grunts, “Played so good. Made me so damn proud.”

Tyler makes a tiny noise, shifting closer into him. It’s too hot, A/C off and duvet sticking to his back from the sweat. Jamie’s warm, too, alive and solid above him, against him, inside him. There’s always a level of comfort to Jamie that Tyler gets lost in, a gentleness that makes him feel safe. 

Tyler gets light-headed from Jamie’s cologne, his scent, overwhelming in senses in a way that makes everything amp up by a hundred. 

Jamie pitches another thrust that makes Tyler’s toes curl, and he’s coming before he even feels it building, out of nowhere and throwing him headfirst into it. He’s unaware he’s making any noise until Jamie kisses him to swallow his cries, feeling a rawness in his throat. Jamie gets in another handful of thrust before he’s filling the condom with a low groan. Tyler’s dick gives a feeble twitch at the sound.

Jamie cleans them up, but is out of bed longer than Tyler would like. He makes grabby hands at Jamie like a child, pouting until Jamie kisses him again and slides back into place, locked tight against Tyler.

It’s Tyler’s favorite place to be, face pressed against Jamie’s naked chest where he can feel every flex of Jamie’s muscles, smell the intoxicating mixture of Jamie’s sweat and cologne and his natural scent, hear his heartbeat loud and strong beneath his hand, his ear, right where it belongs. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahem: WINTER CLASSIC CHAPTER

_ December 2019 _

* * *

November comes and goes quickly, the heat of the Texas summer cooling into a chill. Jamie takes off to Victoria for a couple weeks to visit his family.

The first thing he does is get a new tattoo. It takes nearly a week to get it done, and it’s probably a dumb move considering he and Tyler could break up and any moment — god forbid — but there’s no going back now. He keeps it wrapped the entire time he’s in Canada and doesn’t tell anyone what it is. 

“Jamie,” his mother asks while they’re settling down for dinner, “when are you bringing Tyler up here, hm?”

Jamie’s fork pauses where it’s halfway to his mouth. He chews his bite carefully, contemplating. “Uh, I’m not sure. He’s planning on using his holiday break to go see his family in Toronto, so, I don’t know.”

“Well, what about New Years?” His father suggests.

Jamie shakes his head, but can’t suppress the proud little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Can’t. He’s playing in the Winter Classic on the first.”

“Oh yes, I forgot about that,” his mother hums, offering him another bread roll, “Well, next time you talk to him, tell him we’ll be watching and rooting for him.”

“I will, Mom.” Jamie smiles and tucks back into his food. 

They spend Christmas FaceTiming each other for minutes at a time, when they’ve opened each other’s gifts or have just finished dinner.

_ “Will you finally tell me what your tattoo looks like?” _ Tyler pouts, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Be a good boy,” Jamie says, “and maybe.”

They’re able to perfectly time when Tyler’s family watches  _ How the Grinch Stole Christmas  _ so that Jamie can watch from his laptop with them like they were all there together.

Jamie gets back to Dallas on the 30th. Tyler’s there waiting for him, like he always is, going over game tape on the tablet while sprawled out on the couch.

Tyler pauses the tape so he can climb onto Jamie’s back and order him to go make them popcorn. 

“I literally just got off a plane.” Jamie says in disbelief, but does as Tyler commands.

-

So it’s ten o’clock and they’re in the middle of a pretty heated makeout session. Tyler’s got his leg slung around Jamie’s waist, but Jamie’s got him shoved into the mattress with the sheer weight of his body alone, hands rucking up Tyler’s shirt, exploring every inch of skin he can get his hands on. 

Tyler’s hard, achingly, and Jamie’s on his way there when the doorbell rings, and Tyler’s suddenly reminded that he bought plane tickets for his parents and sisters to fly in tonight, and he forgot to tell Jamie.

“Fuck,” Tyler gasps, pulling away, but Jamie groans and presses him back against the pillows, kissing him again, “Jamie, the door-”

“They can wait.” Jamie mumbles, hand groping Tyler’s ass. 

Tyler wants this — so, so badly. But he can’t leave his family outside for an hour while he gets the life fucked out of him, two hours to midnight.

“That’s my family.” Tyler chokes out, and the doorbell rings again. Downstairs, the dogs are barking.

That sends Jamie reeling back, staring down at Tyler in disbelief. “What?”

“I completely forgot to tell you,” Tyler says, scrubbing a hand down his face, “I flew them in so they could come to the Winter Classic.”

“And you  _ forgot?” _

“I sent a car for them! And they haven’t contacted me. It completely slipped my mind.”

When the doorbell rings a third time, both men go flying out of the bed. 

“I’m the most decent,” Jamie says, staring pointedly at the bulge in Tyler’s sweats, “You, fix that. I’ll go open the door.”

Both men break, and Jamie hustles down the stairs. He’s three feet in front of the door when he realizes that he’s about to meet his boyfriends parents — and his sisters. 

He fixes his hair, fends off the dogs, and opens the door to greet them. “Uh, Happy New Year.”

Jackie looks at Jamie strangely, before realization dawns on her face. “You must be Jamie!”

Jamie nods with a tight, nervous smile and stands to the side to usher them in. “Yes ma’am, I am.”

Once everyone’s inside, Jackie immediately wraps her arms around him. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Uh, Tyler and I moved in together a couple months ago.” Jamie explains, shaking Paul’s outstretched hand. 

He greets Cassidy and Candace, and is saved from any further embarrassment by Tyler stumbling haphazardly down the stairs in a hoodie and loose-fitting jeans. Jamie can see that he’s still sporting a semi, and hopes his parents don’t notice.

“Mom!” Tyler exclaims, hair a mess, eyes a little wild, but hugs her nonetheless, “How was your flight?”

His sisters pounce on him as they ramble about some cute flight attendant. Tyler shoots a smile at Jamie over their heads. Jamie smiles back, relieved.

They have a “party” on New Years Eve and invite some of the rookies and a few of Jamie’s teammates. It’s fun, full of sodas since he’s not allowed to drink before the game. Tyler’s only slightly disappointed. Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Years Eve is on every television in his household, turned up loud enough that people are dancing to the performances. 

Tyler drags Jamie in for one song, arms slinked around his neck, pressed close. Jamie nuzzles his face against Tyler’s cheek, whispers, “You’re going to do incredible tomorrow,” and means every word. Tyler just hangs on tighter, but Jamie can feel him trembling beneath his fingers.

“Hey,” Jamie murmurs into his ear, “Come with me.”

Jamie leads him down the hall and into Bish’s guest room. There’s a handful of rookies in it, but they scatter to give their captain some alone time. Some pop song is playing from Times Square.

“Are we gonna fuck?” Tyler asks, eyeing Jamie as he closes the door, “Are we gonna fuck our way into the New Year?”

Jamie snorts at him, “Oh definitely. Orgasm right when the clock hits midnight.”

“How romantic.” Tyler sighs sweetly.

“We’re not fucking, babe,” Jamie laughs, smiling lopsidedly at Tyler’s disappointed face, “I want to show you something.”

Immediately, Tyler perks back up. “Your new tattoo?”

Jamie smiles and nods, rolling up his shirt sleeve. His skin is still a little sensitive, but it’s mostly healed by now, and Jamie flicks on the light so Tyler can see better.

He watches delighted as Tyler’s eyes rake over his arm, face molding into surprise, then shock, melts a little when tears well up in Tyler’s eyes.

Covering his once empty skin is an array of roses, stems twisted around his forearm. What catches Tyler is what’s in the center of the stems: a big  **91** on the other side of his bicep, with little twirls inside each number. Parts of the stems rest against the numbers, thorns and petals littering his skin. There’s a green shadow to the right side of each number, faint, but there. 

Tyler drags his thumb across the  **91** , jaw agape in wonder. “You did this?”

“Well,” Jamie shrugs, cheeks heating up at how Tyler is looking at him, “the tattoo artist did.”

Tyler doesn’t punch him in the shoulder like he usually would at Jamie’s smart comments. Instead, he kisses along the drawings, soft and wet, until he’s reached the bend of Jamie’s shoulder, and goes for his lips. He cups Jamie’s cheeks, caressing the apples there, and just stares. 

Distantly, he can hear the last two seconds of the countdown, the boom of confetti on the tv and the cheers from his teammates down the hall. 

All of Jamie’s focus is on Tyler, his brown eyes glossed over, the feel of Tyler’s hands on his cheeks. “Happy New Year, Tyler.”

Tyler smiles tearfully up at his boyfriend, “Happy New Year, Jamie,” and kisses him again.

-

Tyler’s not playoff nervous, but he’s nervous. 

Jamie promises he’ll be against the glass the whole time,  **‘91’** tattoo proudly on display, rooting for him.

Tyler sneaks him in for family skate that morning, covertly avoiding Stars PR to keep Jamie from accidentally being in pictures or videos. He records a message for the fans, then drags Jamie out onto the ice.

“I haven’t skated in forever,” Jamie tells him nervously, staring at his feet as they glide wobbly on the ice.

“It’s okay,” Tyler says and bumps their heads, “I won’t let go.”

They skate with both Jamie’s arms wrapped around one of Tyler’s, then gradually ascends into linking arms, then holding hands once Jamie’s got his balance. Jamie nearly falls a couple times, but Tyler’s always there to grab him and keep him on his feet.

“Play hard,” Jamie tells him when the families are leaving and Tyler has to go get ready.

“Always,” grins Tyler and kisses him over the boards. 

They hit the ice for pre-game warmups, and just like Jamie promised, he’s right against the glass with the rest of the WAGs and kids. One of Bish’s girls is on Jamie’s shoulders. Jamie looks like he belongs, despite being the only man in the surrounding area. It makes Tyler even more determined to win for him.

Tyler skates by again right before puck drop. Jamie’s pushed up his shirt sleeves despite the nip in the air, proudly showing off the  **‘91’** adorned in roses. 

Jamie fist bumps the glass. Tyler fist bumps it back. 

The game starts off terrible. Perry elbows Ellis in the face and gets a 5 minute major, and then suddenly the Preds have a 5 on 3, and capitalize. Two minutes later, they score again.

The rest of the period is a mess. The team is agitated, annoyed, and he can already see defeat in the eyes of some of his players. And that- that can't happen. 

“We’ve got this,” he says once Bowness has said his peace and left them alone, “We’ve still got at least forty minutes to play. We’ve bounced back from worse. Now I don’t wanna see  _ anyone  _ giving up already, got that? We are on  _ fire  _ this season; this game is no different than the rest besides the fact that it’s outdoors and on NBC. Okay?”

Someone hollers, and they hit the ice again.

The second is cleaner. There’s a lot of hits, bodies flying across the ice, slamming into the boards. It’s hard; it’s hockey, and that’s the fun of it.

And then Comeau scores with less than two minutes in the period, and suddenly they’re back in the game. The locker room is reenergized;  _ Tyler  _ is reenergized. He feels like they can win this, if they can only tie it. 

Fifty-eight seconds into the third, and they do.

Tyler’s skin is buzzing as he takes a long pull from a water bottle, eyes tracking his players. He’s on the ice when Rads sails it into the net on a wicked slapshot, piles on his boys and screams into their ears.

He passes by Jamie’s seat while making his rounds, and he punches hard at the glass. Jamie’s beaming at him, pointing at him as if to say ‘I told you so.’ Tyler wouldn’t put it past him.

He’s almost unaware when the horn goes off again a minute later, only understands what happened when he hears Klinger next to him shout proudly at Sekera about his gorgeous backhand. It’s 4-2 Stars. 

Tyler tries desperately to land an empty netter. But even with the help of his teammates, the puck never gets to the net. But he can live with it, because the buzzer is going off, and they’ve won the Winter Classic.

Tyler beams, mouthguard between his molars, and lifts a hand in the air. The boys pile onto him, shaking each other excitedly. They go through the handshake round, clasping hands with the Preds players, sends well wishes for Ellis, before skating off. Tyler sits through a quick interview with Pierre, then jogs down the tunnel with a skip in his step.

-

“I fucking told you!” Jamie shouts when Tyler meets up outside the rink after the interview panel. He collides hard against Tyler, but Tyler’s right there with him, cheering and practically throwing himself at Jamie.

Tyler has no words, just beams up at Jamie and kisses the side of his mouth. He hugs his family, who are all decked out in Seguin gear, and his Nana grabs him by the arm and says, “I think we should all go out for some beer.”

It startles a laugh out of Jamie. Tyler feels like he’s high on elation. Tyler piles his family into his SUV while Tyler and Jamie take Jamie’s truck.

“Seriously, babe,” Jamie says as they’re driving, “I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it.”

Tyler shrugs, “I didn’t do as much as I hoped. Didn’t even get a point.”

Jamie reaches over and socks Tyler hard on the shoulder. “So what? You were excellent offensively — physical, attentive, connecting passes. There were so many times I saw you wanting to fight those Preds, but you didn’t because you knew you’d be penalized. It’s  _ strategic.  _ It’s good hockey.”

Tyler shrugs again, but smiles a little down at his fingers messing with a loose thread on his suit pants. Jamie reaches over again, but this time laces their fingers together. They come to a stop at a red light, which is when Jamie meets his eye, says,  _ “I’m proud of you.” _

Tyler feels gutted, but in a good way. He leans over and pecks Jamie’s lips. “Couldn’t have done it without your support. You’re the best, Jame. Mean it.”

They arrive at the bar before the rest of Tyler’s family. They relax in the car while they wait, an old 90s country song playing quietly from the radio.

“You know what’s funny?” Tyler asks suddenly, giggling. “I’ve never been fucked in a car.”

Jamie pauses, then closes his eyes and curses. “What the hell? Where did that come from?”

Tyler’s lips split into a grin. “I was just thinking how the seat of your truck is long-ish enough for the both of us to lay out and fuck on, and then I realized I’ve never been fucked in a vehicle before.”

Jamie sighs. “You’re unbelievable.”

Tyler waggles his eyebrows. “C’mon, babe. Don’t you wanna make my dreams come true?”

Jamie shoves at him, but there’s a smile on his face. He extends his arms out, and Tyler crawls into the space being offered to him, curling up into Jamie’s side. Jamie drops his head against Tyler’s hair, lips brushing the soft hairs beneath them. “I’ll fuck you in my truck one day. Maybe you could ride me. That’d be hot.”

Tyler hums and snuggles his face into Jamie’s neck, mouthing at the skin there. “Totally hot.”

Jamie nods. “But right now, we have to get lunch with your family, who just pulled in three rows in front of us.”

Tyler whines. “I just wanna  _ sleep.” _

“Let's get lunch, and then we can go home and take a nap with the dogs.”

Tyler lifts his head, “Cuddles?”

Jamie smiles something soft and presses a gentle kiss against Tyler’s lips. “Of course,” he says, and opens the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :DDDD


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler takes Jamie to the All Star Game; also, a moment of silence for Kobe and Gianna.

_ January 2020 _

* * *

They’re lying in bed the night before Tyler leaves for his quick trip to the Bahamas during the All Star break, when Tyler says, “You should come to the All Star game.”

Jamie pauses, but Tyler barrels on before he can say anything. “I know you probably want to go home and be with your family, but I just thought, you know- I’m going up against the Tkachuk’s and Kaner, so I don’t know how well I’ll do, but-”

“Babe,” Jamie interrupts with a laugh, “You’re gonna do great. I’d love to come.”

“Yeah?” Tyler says, “Awesome.”

-

St. Louis is roaring with excited fans. Tyler walks down the red carpet with confidence, signing what fans thrust at him. It always blew his mind how many Stars fans there were outside of Dallas. 

It’s always fun to shoot at the goalies during the Save Streak, despite not netting most of his shots. He stayed by Kaner for most of the Skills Competition, catching up.

“Sorry Tazer couldn’t be here,” he says, watching Kaner shrug, “I know you guys are tight.”

“I miss him,” Kaner nods, “I’m just glad he’s in Winnipeg right now, relaxing, you know? The crowd booing me would probably make his head explode, the brute. But I’ll be up there soon enough to cool him down.”

Tyler reels back a bit in surprise. “Tazer- you’re going to visit him in Winnipeg?”

Kaner gives him a weird look. “Uh, yeah man. I’m headed up there Sunday.”

Tyler stares at him. 

“Dude,” Kaner laughs, suddenly realizing, “Did you not know Jonny and I were a thing?”

“What-  _ no!” _ Tyler whispers viciously, “You could have told me, asshole!” He knocks Kaner in the shoulder. “God, it’s about time. All that drunk, mopey talk about how you’d never get to touch Jonny’s godlike ass and get his sappy kisses-”

Kaner shoves his glove into Tyler’s mouth. “Shut the fuck up, Seguin,” he seethes, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips that gives him away, “I finally touched the butt.”

“My god,” Tyler says, “Is it as good as we thought?”

_ “Better.” _

“Woah,” sighs Tyler and falls dramatically on the ice. He’s glad the cameras aren’t on him.

They’re standing around as the Tkachuk boys start their round in the Shooting Stars contest, when Tyler leans close to Kaner and whispers, “I have a boyfriend, too.”

Kaner’s eyes go wide, and he looks around for anyone who could hear them before tilting his head and asking, “Who?”

“Jamie Benn. He’s a baseball player for th-”

“The Texas Rangers? You’re dating Jamie fucking Benn?” Kaner whispers harshly. “How the hell did you manage that?”

“Instagram?” 

Kaner watches him for a long moment. “You young people.”

“You’re only five years older than me!”

It’s Kaner’s turn, so he pats Tyler on the butt in silent response before taking his place. 

Tyler ends up falling short on Kaner, who wins the contest in “overtime.” Kaner goes off to take his picture with the rest of the competition winners, but calls out, “Text me! We’ll grab some beers,” before they part. 

Jamie’s waiting for him at the hotel when he returns, but Tyler knows he was at the Enterprise Center earlier, hidden away in the crowd.

He doesn’t even get out of his suit, only shakes off his shoes, before faceplanting into the best beside his boyfriend. Jamie pats the back of his head sympathetically. “You did good.”

“Mm. Love me.” Tyler hums and koala-wraps himself around Jamie’s leg. 

Jamie laughs, “I do, baby.”

They lay in silence for a while, and Tyler gets caught up in the  _ Reba _ rerun playing on tv, when Jamie says, “What were you and Kane talking about?”

“Hm? Oh, he was just telling me about his boyfriend,” Tyler tells him, “but you can’t tell anyone I told you.”

“I swear.”

“Okay, so you know Jonathan Toews, right?” Tyler says, flipping onto his stomach, chin-handing.

Jamie’s eyes fly wide in surprise.  _ “No.” _

_ “Yes. _ I mean, I could see that a mile away. Tazer’s way too handsy with Kaner to  _ not _ be tapping that on a regular basis.”

“Holy shit.” Jamie gasps.

Tyler nods his confirmation, then starts pulling off his clothes. They’re farther up north than Dallas, which means there’s a nip in the air, but he’s too tired to get up and find his pajamas. He takes to Jamie instead, snuggling against his warmth and the comforter above them.

“I love you.” Tyler tells him, half asleep and drooling on Jamie’s shoulder. 

Jamie stops, squeezes Tyler’s arm where he’s got his own wrapped around him, holding him close. “I love you, too.”

“I’d be so hard if I wasn’t so tired.” Tyler pouts.

“Poor thing,” Jamie laughs, “How ever will you survive?”

-

Tyler only learns that the Texas Rangers are attending the first game after the break — and all the backstage glory — the day before during practice.

He calls Jamie immediately, “How long have you known?

_ “They called me while you were in the Bahamas.”  _ Jamie chuckles, “ _ They told the team while you were at the All Star Game. Figured they’d just let you know when you came back.” _

“They’re making fun of me.” Tyler pouts as Rads snaps a towel at him.

“Seggy won’t pay any attention tomorrow night! Be all goo-goo eyes for Benn.”

“Segs doesn’t make  _ goo-goo  _ eyes at Benn,” Bish scoffs, and for a moment Tyler thinks he’s on his side, up until he adds, “He makes  _ bedroom  _ eyes.”

“I will smite you all.” Tyler grumbles, tucking himself against his stall and his phone. “You better be wearing my jersey tomorrow to make up for this.”

Jamie lets out a breathy laugh through his nose.  _ “Sure thing, babe.” _

True to his word, Tyler shows up at the AAC the next night, and there’s Jamie with the rest of his team, donned in Stars green and a big A on his chest.

He turns Jamie around, just to make sure that’s his name and number on the back and not Klinger’s. He’s satisfied when he sees the big ‘91’ and the name SEGUIN right above it, and a little turned on. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Jamie says in a deadpan, I-can’t-believe-this-is-my-life voice, “I’m literally already branded with your number.”

“You’ll understand when I come to your games wearing your jersey.” Tyler tells him, and that shuts Jamie up quick. 

The Rangers pile into the bench for pregame warmups, watching excitedly. Many have never been to a hockey game before, and in no time at all Jamie is giving them a full-blown lecture about the sport. He’s probably got lesson plans and a pop quiz shoved somewhere inside his jersey.

Tyler stands on the ice in front of Jamie during the moment of silence for Kobe. He feels Jamie squeeze his arm a little bit, a silent acknowledgment to remind Tyler that he’s here, he’s safe, and isn’t going anywhere.

Jamie wasn’t with him when he heard startling news, and it sent a hard jolt of panic through Tyler. He called Jamie right away, ordered him to stay put for a bit. He can’t say why; it’s probably unhealthy. But the thought of what happened, what Vanessa and their girls are going through — Tyler can’t imagine something so terrible happening to Jamie, and he surely wouldn’t be able to cope. 

He had to call, make sure Jamie was okay, and then refused to let him leave. Something could happen. He can’t let that happen. 

When Jamie finally did arrive, Tyler was taken by surprise, because  _ I don’t remember saying it was safe to leave,  _ and Jamie swept Tyler into his arms to stave off an impending panic attack, assuring Tyler that he was here, he was fine, that nothing was going to happen.

“I hate planes,” Tyler had said, “and they’re part of the job, but never ever take a helicopter, okay? That shit’s dangerous.”

Jamie hadn’t argued with him, even though he was being slightly irrational, just bundled him into the kitchen and made him spaghetti with extra parmesan dust; and he didn’t even scold Tyler for sitting on the island to eat.

The lights come back on, the moment of silence over, and Tyler gets his head back in the present because he’s got a hockey game to win. If he shows off a little, just for Jamie, no one has to know.

(Everyone knows.)


	11. Chapter 11

_ February 2020 _

* * *

Tyler celebrates his birthday at a bar with his friends and getting the life fucked out of him by his boyfriend. 

(Tyler had _ wanted _to have Jamie dick him down in his truck, but Jamie said no. The jury’s still out on a date for that one.)

“But it’ll be soon, right?” Tyler asks, naked under the sheets while Jamie brings him a special birthday cupcake because he’s cute like that.

“If you’re good.” Jamie tells him, sliding back into bed next to him. 

“I can be good,” Tyler says seductively, rolling over to press himself against Jamie, “I can be very good…”

Tyler gets the life fucked out of him a second time, cupcake forgotten on the bedside table.

“Hard to believe it’s only been six months.” Tyler says when they finally get out of bed early the next morning. Jamie’s making them sandwiches, and Tyler’s perched his bare ass on the counter, legs swinging while he waits. Jamie turns a little, looks at the calendar that Tyler’s looking at, and sees that it’s the first of February. And- huh. He’s right. Their six month anniversary is only two weeks away.

It’s surprisingly a settling revelation; they’ve come this far, and there’s still so much in store. 

He feels Tyler settle his weight against Jamie back, wrap his arms around his waist and just hold. Jamie’s got a pair of boxers on, but Tyler is completely nude still. He’s gracious enough to wait until Jamie’s put the knife down to say, “You’ll let me fuck you one day, right,” while giving a little grind of his hips. Whatever was in Jamie’s hands falls onto the counter.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love your dick,” Tyler continues, cupping a hand over said dick, “and I love taking it. But I think it would be fun to switch it up one day.”

Jamie closes his eyes against the feeling, pushing minutely into Tyler’s hand. “What, like right now?” He asks, and it comes out a little more breathless than we would have liked.

“Well, maybe not _ right _now,” Tyler hums, moving his hand away, only to dip it beneath the waistband of Jamie’s boxers and take his semi in his hand, “But soon, yeah?”

Jamie’s still sensitive from coming multiple times yesterday, but he’s always able to get it up for Tyler; it’s never a hardship. Tyler jerks him off in the middle of their kitchen, and he comes all over the side of the counter, thankfully missing the sandwiches. 

When he’s recovered enough to move, he spins around and grabs Tyler below the butt, lifting him and tossing him onto the adjacent counter, free of sandwiches, and fingers him there, legs around Jamie’s shoulders. He gets Tyler a squirming, begging mess before he finally lets him come. It’s one of Jamie’s favorite games to play, and it always puts Tyler out of commission for the next half hour. 

Like the perfect boyfriend he is, he gives Tyler a piggy back ride back to the bedroom, sandwiches in hand, and lays him down on the bed. He drags the covers over them, then pulls Tyler against his body.

Jamie feeds him his sandwich, head pillowed on Jamie’s peck. When the sandwiches are gone, Tyler puts his mouth on Jamie’s nipple and suckles gently. Jamie cards his hand through Tyler’s hair, letting Tyler take what he needs. Sometimes Tyler needs something to occupy him, something to let him slip into a mindspace where he can relax. It happens a lot when he plays hockey, new plays becoming muscle memory, getting lost in the cut of the ice, the snap of a stick when it breaks. 

_ The Witcher _is playing quietly in the background, and Tyler’s warm and solid against him, so he asks, “What are your Valentine’s Day plans?”

Tyler hums once as he processes the question, and another as he thinks about it. “We’re supposed to fly out to Montreal that night.” He looks up at Jamie, “But I might be able to convince Bowess to let me fly out Saturday morning instead, if you had something planned.”

Jamie smiles softly against Tyler’s temple. “We can wait until you get back. I don’t want you to get in trouble. Besides, it might be more discreet to go out on a non-romantic day of the year.”

“Sounds good.” Tyler says, and resumes his suckling. Jamie doesn’t move when Tyler falls asleep there, lips still closed around Jamie’s nipple.

-

Not only does Tyler’s goal drought snap during the game against Montreal, he gets _ two _ goals _ and _the overtime winner to snatch the second point. 

Their Valentine’s Day plans fall on the 17th, right before their anniversary, but Jamie gets a call on the 16th from his PR manager while Tyler’s in Ottawa. 

“Jamie,” Liz smiles, “Thank you for coming.”

Her team is seated around the table. Jamie’s slightly intimidated by it. None of them look particularly happy. Jamie takes a seat beside her. Jon, their general manager, is also there, along with Coach Woodward. 

“I’m going to cut to the chase,” Liz tells him, “You know that we support you, but we’ve been talking, and we think it’s best if you limit your public outings with Tyler.”

Jamie blinks, taken aback. “Pardon?”

“We have no issue with you dating Tyler,” Liz continues, “but people talk. There are pictures of you at the Winter Classic.”

Jamie had been aware that there would be at least a few pictures of him there that got out. But there were other Texas athletes that attended as well. He didn’t think it would be a big deal. 

Jon clasps his hands together and rests them on the table in front of him. “As much as this is sport, it’s also a business, and we need to do whatever we can to make sure publicity is as clean and free of controversy as possible.” 

Jamie’s mouth drops open in shock. He’d thought— he didn’t know what he’d thought, actually. He’d hoped that he could come out to his team without any problem, that he could go out on a date with his boyfriend to some fancy restaurant without being noticed. It was unrealistic to begin with. 

“Oh,” he says, voice soft in his hurt, “I didn’t know it was such a problem. I apologize.”

“What’s important now is fixing what’s been done,” one of the PR guys says, and Jamie flinches in offense, “Like we said, we’d appreciate it if you limited your time out in public with Mr. Seguin. Limited contact is best.”

Jamie furrows his eyebrows. “Okay, but, Tyler and I had plans to go out for dinner for a late Valentine’s Day — we figured there would be too much attention if we went on the fourteenth-”

“We appreciate that,” Liz smiles, “Maybe you should consider doing something in, instead.” She words it like a suggestion, but he can hear the underlying tone that says it’s not a suggestion at all. 

Jamie feels a flare of annoyance, but he tamps it down. “Of course.”

Liz’s grin is bright. It’s unsettling. “We thank you for your cooperation, Jamie.”

He takes that as he cue to leave. He nods and hitails it out of there, head down like a dog with his tail between his legs. He can’t even find it in himself to be mad. He’s just sad. He should have seen this coming. Baseball isn’t as homophobic as hockey, but it’s a sport, and a business all the same. 

He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel as he drives home, and he sits in the driveway for ten minutes before he can find the strength in his legs to get out.

He doesn’t know how to tell Tyler. It’s not so bad the longer he thinks about it; at least he’ll get to have a private night in with him. 

Tyler gets back early the next morning. Jamie’s still sleeping, but he wakes when he feels Tyler’s arms snake around his waist as he crawls into bed beside him. “Hey babe.”

Jamie hums, turns his head so he’s facing Tyler and sticks his lips out for a kiss. Tyler giggles and pecks his lips, then cups a hand around the back of Jamie’s neck and kisses him deeper. He’s lulled back to sleep at the sound of Tyler’s heartbeat.

The next time we wakes, it’s to the smell of bacon. Jamie’s body is up and down the hall before he realizes what he’s doing. Tyler’s standing shirtless in front of the stove, joggers low on his lips. Jamie licks his lips at the sight but doesn’t act on it, instead peppering kisses across Tyler’s shoulders while reaching above him for the plates. 

“Morning,” he hums, grinning as Tyler squirms happily under the attention.

“Morning,” he greets and dishes up the bacon onto the plates, then goes for the eggs, “So I was thinking tonight we can go to Olive Garden a little early and take pictures in front of the building because it’s really pretty and I want another picture of us.”

Jamie’s heart clenches. He wants that so bad, but- “About that. I was thinking, maybe we should have a night in, instead.”

Tyler turns around, face scrunched in confusion. “What? Why?”

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno. I’m just not feeling like going out.”

“But it’s for Valentine’s Day, and our anniversary,” Tyler frowns, “It was your idea.”

“Right. You don’t mind, do you?” Jamie asks, nervous, “It’ll be nice and private.”

Tyler studies him for a long while. “I guess,” he says finally, “I was just, kind of excited for a night out. Just us. Like our first date at Wingstop.”

Jamie remembers their Wingstop date. Jamie hadn’t even considered it a date until they actually started dating. It was late at night after one of his games, restaurant vacant except for them. Jamie didn’t have to worry about being noticed, or being the Savior of the Texas Rangers. He was just Jamie, who told embarrassing stories of him and his brother and tried not to get hot sauce all over his shirt and embarrass himself in front of the super hot guy he was trying to impress. 

“Jame? Talk to me,” Tyler says to him, voice soft and laced with concern. Jamie adores him. “What’s going on?”

Jamie sighs, but decides to come clean. “I had a meeting with PR yesterday. They have some, uh, _ concerns _ about our relationship.”

Tyler blinks, clearly not expecting that. “Concerns?”

Jamie ducks his head. “There’s been some rumors about us. PR’s calling it bad publicity. They want us to cut back on how often we’re out in public together.”

Tyler pulls away from him. Jamie misses his presence immediately. “We hardly go out together at all.”

Jamie nods sadly. “I know.”

“They don’t want us to go out together at all,” Tyler says, and at Jamie’s nod of confirmation, adds, “That’s ridiculous. They can’t- it’s not like we’re making out in the middle of the street. What did you tell them?”

“I told them ‘okay’,” Jamie replies, “What else was I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know. Maybe ‘you don’t control my life and if I want to take my boyfriend out for our six month anniversary, I will’?”

Jamie glares at him in exasperation. “I know it sucks, but you of all people should know that part of being an athlete is having half your life dictated for you.”

“It’s not like they’re gonna trade you just because you went on a date with your boyfriend,” Tyler huffs, “They can’t do that. There’s a contract for a reason.”

“You think Boston didn’t trade you because of your publicity problems?” Jamie bites back, but as soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets it. Tyler’s face fills with hurt. He snaps his mouth shut in horror. “Tyler, I didn’t mean-”

“No, you know what?” Tyler holds his hand up to silence him. “I understand having to keep your mouth shut about certain things to stay on a team. I understand the consequences. But they don’t get to control your personal life in every aspect. It’s not in your contract. So _ fuck you.” _

“Tyler-”

“I’m not done,” Tyler snaps, “I’m not that upset about what your PR said, because I got the same lecture from Boston PR _ and _ Dallas PR. But I at least thought you’d say something, or bargain. But you didn’t. You rolled over and bared your stomach. You didn’t even _ fight _for me.”

“Sorry if I didn’t want to lose my fucking job and have to move away from you.” Jamie gripes, but if he’s being honest with himself, he didn’t even think of that until now.

“You wouldn’t lose your fucking- that’s why you have _ lawyers, _you dumb fuck. You’re their best player. They’re not going to trade you because you went to a restaurant with a hockey player!”

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“You’re not taking _ us _seriously.” Tyler cries. 

Jamie sits hunched over in his seat by the bar, but Tyler’s standing far away from him, hands clenched and jaw right and fists clenched by his sides. 

“If you want to chicken out, hide behind some fake story PR wants you to use, then do it.” Tyler yells, voice strained. Jamie looks startled, and momentarily guilty. “I need you to _ breathe; _ I need you to get _ up _ in the mornings; I need _ you, _ okay? But if you don’t need me, then what’s the point?”

Jamie’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, staring at Tyler dumbly. Tyler just scoffs and shakes his head, then grabs his keys and his wallet. 

“Happy fucking anniversary.” Tyler says, and hopes it hurts as much as he means it to. He storms out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... oops


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: in this chapter, Jamie gets sick. He does not have COVID-19. The virus doesn’t exist in this AU, which means neither of their seasons were paused and all sports and daily life are as they would normally be :)

_ March 2020 _

* * *

Tyler spent the first three days after their fight sleeping on the couch at Bish’s house. He came home on the fourth day, but he didn’t speak a word to Jamie. He went to practice, played his games, and locked himself in the guest room whenever Jamie was home.

A week after their fight, they tried to talk it out like the adults they were, but it only made things worse. They ended up screaming at each other so loud that the dogs hid in the downstairs closet. Jamie threw a spoon at him. Tyler threw a book. 

Eventually, March rolls around and spring training begins for the Rangers. Jamie isn’t gone as often as he would be during the season, but it’s more than before. Despite how angry Tyler still is at him, he misses the warm body pressed up behind him every night, or how Jamie would make them dinner shirtless and covertly feed scraps to the dogs, even though Tyler knew exactly what he was doing. 

About a week later, Jamie half-heartedly mentions he’s going to Shawn’s house for lunch. That was at noon. It’s six now, and Tyler has no idea where Jamie is. He’s gotten no texts, no calls. Tyler’s called him four times, but they always go to voicemail.

Jamie doesn’t come home until eight. He’s half-drunk, stumbling a little as he pushes his way inside and tries not to trip over the dogs. He’s still got a beer in his hands. 

“Please tell me you didn’t drive drunk.” Tyler asks, startling Jamie, who whips around to face him in surprise. He squints, then. 

“Shawn drove me home.”

Tyler nods. “Let’s get you to bed.” He puts his hand on Jamie’s arm. Jamie stares down dumbly at it. Tyler leads him up the stairs and into their room. He takes off Jamie’s shoes and pants, strips his shirt, and tucks him into bed. For a moment, Jamie looks like he wants to say something, tell Tyler to get into bed beside him, but he just shuts his eyes and rolls away.

Drunk actions, sober thoughts. It hurts Tyler more than it should. 

-

Jamie wakes up sick the following morning. Tyler thinks it’s a hangover, but it lasts the entire day and well into the next. Jamie spends the first day throwing up and the second day never leaving the bed. Tyler’s still hurt from their entire ordeal two weeks ago, but he’s not going to leave his boyfriend high and dry when he’s sick.

“If you hadn’t had gotten drunk, you would have noticed yourself getting sick sooner.” Tyler huffs as he sits next to him on the bed and rubs his shoulders. His muscles are tense and sore. Tyler’s worries it’s the flu. 

“Whatever.” Jamie grumbles into his pillow and falls asleep beneath Tyler’s warm palms.

Jamie spends another day recuperating, but Tyler stops him in his tracks the next day when he tries to leave the house to head to practice.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tyler frowns at him. He’d had a terrible headache this morning and could hardly open his eyes. 

Jamie shrugs stiffly, “I’m fine. We need to get in as much practice as we can.”

“Yeah, but,” Tyler frowns, “not if it compromises your health.” 

Gerry whines and sniffs at Jamie’s feet sadly. Jamie leans down to pet him, but sets his lips into a thin line. “It’s just a cold. I took some ibuprofen and a Tums. I’ll be fine.”

“You  _ are  _ fine, or you’ll  _ be  _ fine?” 

“Tyler, stop.” Jamie snaps. “I’m going.”

Tyler bites back the wave of hurt and crosses his arms over his chest. “When you get hospitalized because you’re too busy vomiting up your insides, don’t fucking blame me.” 

“As if you care.” Jamie mutters under his breath as he grabs his bag. 

Tyler whips around and slugs him hard on the shoulder. He doesn’t point out how Jamie sways, off-balance. “Just because we’re fighting doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit.” When Jamie doesn’t look at him, he angrily storms upstairs. 

He waits until he hears Jamie’s truck leave the driveway to go back to the living room. He knows he’s not leaving his spot until Jamie comes back and Tyler can make sure he’s okay. 

-

Jamie texts him after and promises he’s okay, but he comes back home looking even worse than when he left. He looks a little surprised to see Tyler there, waiting, but doesn’t object when Tyler comes over and hugs him.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he frowns, “I’m just really worried about you, and you’re a stubborn piece of shit.”

Jamie hugs back, but it’s weak. Tyler can feel the heat radiating from Jamie’s forehead. He pulls back and pushes his floppy hair from his eyes, still damp. “You’re sweating.”

But Jamie shakes his head. “I’m a little cold, actually.” 

Tyler hurries to grab the first aid kit and takes out the thermometer. Jamie tries to fight him, but he winces and lets Tyler run the pad over his forehead. He looks at Jamie’s squinted eyes with concern. “Did your headache come back?”

When Jamie doesn’t reply, Tyler asks even more harried, “Did it ever go away?”

“No.” Jamie whispers. “Can we go lay down?”

Tyler feels panic start to creep up his spine when he looks at the thermometer. 103 F. 

“I think we should go to the doctor.” Tyler shakes his head. “Now. Like, right now.”

Jamie closes his eyes, face white and blotchy, and leans against Tyler for support. “Um…”

Jamie goes down fast, and Tyler’s got only enough strength to grab him right before he hits the ground.  _ “Jamie!” _

Tyler lays him on the floor, head cradled in the crook of his arm. Jamie’s out, limp and trembling. Tyler scrambles to call 911, alone and shaking on his living room floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than normal but I figured an update was needed


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi it’s been a while um have some angsty happiness??

_ March 2020 _

* * *

The paramedics in the ambulance may as well have been talking in Portuguese; Tyler had no idea what they were saying. But they sounded concerned, talking fast and about getting to the hospital asap, saying it was “critical,” and something about his blood pressure. 

At one point, the paramedics cut his shirt off. That’s when he sees the rash all over Jamie’s arms and hands. One of the medics says it’s on his ankles, too.

“What the fuck is that?” Tyler chokes out, voice shaking as he stares down at his boyfriend in terror.

“A rash,” the woman next to him says, “That could mean a lot of things.” _ None of them good, _is what she doesn’t say, but Tyler hears anyway. 

They whisk Jamie away as soon as they get to the hospital. The driver leads Tyler into the waiting room, fills in the woman at the desk, and gets him a bottle of water. 

“Stay with us, kid,” the guy tells him, even though he’s probably Tyler’s age, if not younger, “That guy needs you.”

Tyler nods weakly, fingers clenched into the bottle hard enough for it to creak and collapse into itself. He sits in one of the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room, far away from everyone who’s coughing or wearing masks. His head hurts. 

A nurse comes out a few minutes later to ask him some questions. “Can you tell me about what happened before he fainted?”

Tyler runs a hand over his mouth. “He, uh, he was complaining of a stomach ache for a couple days. He threw up a few times. He just said it was a bug.” He laughs in despair, “It wasn’t just a bug, was it?”

“Probably not,” the nurse says, “Anything else?”

Tyler scoffs. “I could give you a list. He’s had a headache all day, and he had the chills earlier. I didn’t even see the rash until the medics cut off his shirt. I took his temperature right before he-” he swallows, “It was a hundred and three. I was just about to take him to the doctor.” 

He covers his mouth, grits his teeth to keep from crying in front of all these people. The nurse waits him out patiently until Tyler regathers himself. 

“Can you think of what could have caused it?” The nurse asks, “Anything out of the ordinary?”

Tyler sniffles, thinks back. “I don’t know,” he says eventually, voice already disappearing, “He plays professional baseball. Maybe he picked it up during a practice?”

The nurse nods. “It could very well be. They’re running tests right now. His doctors will let you know what they come up with.”

“Oh,” Tyler frowns, “He’s not- I’m not family.”

The nurse frowns and looks at a piece of paper on his clipboard. “You are Mr. Tyler Seguin, aren't you?”

“...Yes?”

“You’re on Mr. Benn’s emergency contacts, which makes you eligible for us to give you updates on his condition.”

“Oh,” Tyler says again, “Okay. That’s- that’s good.” 

When the nurse leaves him, it dawns on Tyler that, because Jamie is an adult, they won’t call his parents. Tyler’s going to have to.

He signs for Jamie’s belongings while they work on him, and he immediately unlocks Jamie’s phone and goes for the contact list. He calls Jamie’s mother with numb fingers.

_ “Jamie, hi!” _

Tyler closes his eyes against the tears. “Mrs. Benn? This is Tyler Seguin — Jamie’s boyfriend? There’s something I need to tell you.”

-

It’s long past midnight when someone finally comes out. The doctor is kind enough to walk over to Tyler. He’s glad; he doesn’t know if he has enough strength in his legs to get up.

“Mr. Benn is very lucky that you got him here so soon,” she tells him, “He’s suffering from Rocky Mountain spotted fever.”

The bottom drops out of Tyler’s stomach. “It- _ what?” _ Jesus Christ _ . _ “Rocky Moun- what the _ fuck. _ Is he going to die?”

“I don’t see why he would,” she assures him, “He’s responding well to the medications we’ve been giving him. We want to keep him for a couple days to monitor him and continue to administer the antibiotics.”

Tyler nods numbly, and almost misses when the doctor adds, “Based on the level of severity of the bite we found on his back, we determined he was bit by a tick roughly three days ago.”

Tyler feels himself pale at the thought of Jamie suffering from this for three days, but the doctor shuts down his worry, “It takes at least two days to start feeling the effects. Mr. Benn probably didn’t start seeing symptoms until yesterday. His case isn’t severe at all. I don’t think he’ll see any long-term effects, save for some weakness and nausea for the next few days.”

“So- so he’s going to be okay?”

The doctor smiles at him. “He should be just fine.”

Tyler slumps against the wall in relief. The doctor takes a hold of his arm to steady him. “Careful, Mr. Seguin. We don’t need you falling in the floor, too.”

Tyler manages a weak smile, but feels some strength returning to his will. Jamie’s going to be okay. 

She watches him for a moment, before suggesting, “Would it help if you saw him yourself?”

Tyler nods so hard it hurts; and seeing Jamie does help. He’s breathing, ECG a steady rhythm in the quiet room. He’s got a bunch of tubes in his arms, and some wires connected to his chest, but he’s alive. 

It’s the first he’s felt the slightest bit calm since Jamie collapsed, and now he can feel the heaviness in his legs and the headache that’s quickly turning into a migraine. The doctor sits him down in a chair next to Jamie’s bedside and gives him some medicine for the headache, tells him he can stay as long as he keeps quiet. 

Tyler didn’t intend on moving from his spot, but he appreciates the permission. 

He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until someone’s shaking him awake with a hand on his shoulder. Tyler jolts, startles, hoping it’s Jamie, that this was all a bad dream; but he looks up and meets the eyes of Jordie Benn and- that’s right. Jordie is Jamie’s brother.

He braces for some kind of scrutiny, but Jordie just looks over to Jamie’s unconscious body and says, “How’s my brother?”

Tyler exhales hard. “He’s gonna be okay.”

“And how are you?” 

Tyler’s momentarily startled by the question, but he recovers, “I have no idea.”

“Good,” Jordie nods, and drags a chair next to him, “I’d be mad if you did.”

Tyler stares sadly at Jamie, counting each time his chest rises and falls. One, two, three.

“Thank you for being there for him,” Jordie says, also watching his brother, “I can’t even imagine what would have happened if he was alone.”

Four. “I shouldn’t have let him play,” Tyler frowns. Five, six. “I should have taken him to the hospital.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that. Jamie’s a stubborn son of a bitch. You wouldn’t have been able to stop him.” Seven. 

Jordie looks at Tyler for a long moment. “My brother’s really fucking gone for you, man. I can see why.” Jamie breathes again. Eight. 

When Tyler turns to him again, Jordie nods at the door, “Doc said you’ve been here since you showed up with Jamie eight hours ago.” Nine.

Tyler blinks. He didn’t realize how long it’d been. He looks back at Jamie and carefully slips his hand into his as he breathes for the tenth time. “You owe me big time, dumbass.” He huffs, thumb softly caressing the skin of his hand. It’s colder than he’d like. Tyler decides to cover it with his other. That should warm it up. It’s the least he can do. It’s all he can do.

Eleven. 

-

He’s asleep on the couch against the window when he starts to the sound of Jamie’s parents entering the room. He peers over at them through heavy eyes. They’re crowding around Jamie’s bed and talking to Jordie to catch up on Jamie’s condition. His dad is right by the head of the bed, and his mom looks tired, and here’s Tyler taking up the entire length of the couch. 

Tyler’s got to force his muscles to move, struggling to get up, but Jamie’s mom is there immediately and lays him back down. “You just stay right where you are. His doctor made it very clear that one more stressor would put you in a bed of your own.”

But she’s smiling when she says it, tears in her eyes. “Jamie needs you right here.”

Tyler doesn’t need to be told twice, so he lays back down and makes himself as comfortable as he can. 

Jamie wakes up a couple hours later, the Benn’s scattered around the room in chairs, while Tyler’s half asleep and cursing the birds chirping on the windowsill right where he’s trying to sleep. He hears a groan before anything, and when he whips his head around, sees Jamie lifting a hand to shield the light from his eyes. 

“Jamie!” Tyler gasps and falls off the couch in attempt to get to him. 

Jamie’s there with an outstretched hand when he gets to him, and Tyler takes it, getting in as close as he can.

“You’re such an asshole.” Tyler tells him. 

Jamie smiles apologetically, reaches up weakly to brush the hair from Tyler’s eyes. “Sorry.”

Tyler sniffles, “Better be,” sniffles again, then kisses him because he was so _ scared. _ He never wants to feel that again.

“Oh, Jamie,” Jamie’s mom gasps, coming to the other side of the bed, “You gave us all quite the scare.”

“Go to the fucking doctor next time, Chubbs.” Jordie says from across the room, sounding suspiciously choked up. 

The doctor comes in to check on him, and Tyler’s forced to move away. He stands stiffly next to Jordie, eyeing critically the doctor’s every movement. Jamie’s fine now. What if she does something and suddenly he’s not fine anymore? She shouldn’t mess with it. She could-

She’s moving away, and then his spot is opening up again. Tyler’s back at his side in an instant, half bent over and right against him, sitting himself right on the edge of the bed. Jamie stops his inane checking over every little thing, — because Tyler’s got to make sure he’s okay, alright? He’s _ got to _ — takes Tyler’s hands and kisses them both. “I’m so sorry I put you through that. But I’m okay now, Ty.”

Tyler nods, says, “You’re okay now,” and tries to convince himself of it. 

Jamie’s face somehow softens even more than it already is. “Baby…”

Tyler feels his bottom lip wobble. He’s crying before he can stop himself, crumbling against the weight of it all. “You- you could have died.”

Jamie squeezes hard at Tyler’s hands, presses their foreheads together. Tyler cries hard, the first time since Jamie fainted, and doesn’t care that Jamie’s family is right behind him. Right here, right now, it’s just him and Jamie. Because Jamie’s alive, and he’s going to stay that way.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the final chapter!!

_ April 2020 _

* * *

Tyler’s team starts their playoff run mid-April as Jamie’s season gets back into full swing. But with the start of Jamie’s season means having to deal with his PR team and their contrast nagging about not being in public.

“You can't tell me I’m not allowed to go out with my boyfriend,” Jamie huffs after they’ve finished trying to twist their bigotry into Jamie’s head, “We live together. We went and got  _ groceries.  _ We weren’t displaying any PDA. Now can I please get back to practice?”

Tyler cuddles him extra hard that night, tucked tight into Jamie’s side with his face stuffed in his neck. “They’re dumb,” he says, “I love you.”

Jamie smiles and ducks down to kiss him, because he’s so terribly gone for this man. “I love you, too.”

Along with making sure his job doesn’t fuck up his relationship, Jamie is still as determined as ever to take the Rangers all the way this year — or at least, to the third round. His mom says to shoot for the stars (haha), but to set smaller goals to work up to the big one. That way, it doesn’t seem so gargantuan. 

His mom is a very wise person.

But even with the tinier goals in place, Jamie puts all the weight on his shoulders and refuses to lift with his legs. Tyler catches him running on the treadmill after Stars’ practice, where he was before Tyler left three hours ago. Sometimes, Jamie will make dinner early so that he can go work out directly after. Tyler loves Jamie’s body, and loves that Jamie takes such good care of himself, but really. Thing’s getting ridiculous.

Tyler wakes up cold in a pitch black room. Hoping to seek warmth, he rolls over and reaches out for Jamie, but his hands only slide over cold sheets. Tyler sighs, lifts his head to check the time. Three fifteen a.m.

Making extra sure not to rub the sand from his eyes — every time he does, he can’t get back to sleep, and if Tyler can’t get back to sleep he’s going to murder Jamie before sunrise — he gets out of bed and takes the comforter with him, wrapping it around his shoulders as he feels his way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. The comforter drags on the hardwood behind him, a dull  _ ‘ssss’ _ sound that reminds him how comfy he could have been wrapped up in it if Jamie had just fucking  _ stayed in bed  _ and  _ cuddled _ with him. 

He finds Jamie exactly where he expected: jogging on the incline as he stares out the window at the blue-black sky, as if it holds the answers to getting a shot off Toronto’s curveball. Tyler huffs, but Jamie doesn’t hear him, music too loud through his airpods. Gerry is curled up asleep in the corner. Traitor. 

He walks over and presses the off button. Jamie stumbles, then shoots Tyler a glare. “What the hell?” He’s still got his stupid airpods in. Tyler takes them out one by one, puts them in their case, and shuts it. “What are you doing up?”

_ “I  _ am up because my boyfriend is a dumb fuck,” Tyler grumbles, still a blink away from sleep, “You’re a dumb fuck.”

He grabs Jamie by the front of his shirt and drags him off the incline and out of the workout room. Gerry stays in his spot. 

“Get naked,” demands Tyler when they’re safe in their bedroom. He releases his hold on Jamie and flops onto the bed, waits as he regathers his strength, then wiggles up to his pillow. He spreads his arms like a bird to get the comforter spread out, and lays there while he waits for Jamie to get undressed and into bed.

Once Jamie is sans clothes and slipping into his spot, Tyler wiggles some more until he’s pressed up against Jamie’s warm back. He falls asleep pretty fast after that. 

-

The Stars make it all the way to round three by the end of April. Tyler’s gone every other day, and Jamie makes it his life's work to watch every game. The Rangers start going on the road with the season officially starting up, but if Jamie can’t watch a game, he keeps track of the scores during his time in the dugouts or inside the locker room. 

Round three is giving Jamie whiplash; he can only imagine what Tyler’s feeling. The Stars and Vancouver bounce around wins like a pinball machine: win, lose, win, lose. Tyler comes home with his shoulders at his ears but eyes lit with determination. Jamie’s never seen him like this. 

There’s not much he can do to help other than working out with him and providing support, but he’s damn good at it, bundling Tyler into bed and finding new recipes for pasta dishes so that Tyler’s not eating the same grilled chicken and alfredo every night. 

But of course, fate has it out for them because Tyler’s conference final game seven — a.k.a., the Big Game — is on a night where Jamie is playing, too. The only good thing about their situation is that they’re both playing in Dallas. 

Tyler clings to him a little longer than usual when they hug goodbye. Jamie knows how much is riding on tonight. The Cup will be in the building. It’s all or nothing. And Jamie can’t be there.

Jamie has been with Tyler long enough to know that saying “I believe in you,” or “You’re going to do great,” will backfire spectacularly if — God forbid — the Stars lose. Tyler doesn’t do well with disappointment; and while losing a game, no matter how well or terrible he played, will never make Jamie disappointed in Tyler, he’s gone and got it in his head that he will. 

So instead, he sticks with, “I love you,” and kisses Tyler in the foyer of their home, dogs sitting at their feet in silent support. In that single, brief moment, it’s just them — their little family, and happiness; no worries or anxiety in sight.

Tyler leaves before Jamie. When Jamie gets to the arena, the first period has been underway for ten minutes. The guys in the locker room all look up when he opens the door, and give him supportive pats on the back as he makes his way to his stall. Jamie hates that he’s missing such an important game for Tyler, but he’s got his own game to play. 

Jordie’s out of the playoff run, so he’s in the stands for Jamie and promised to tell him the news once the games were over. 

He’s distracted for the first bit of the game, knowing that Tyler’s on the ice right now, probably gnawing on a Gatorade bar because despite what he says, he snacks when he’s nervous if he can’t access Jamie’s fingers to play with. 

He gets himself together the longer he plays, able to concentrate on what’s in front of him rather than what’s twenty minutes away. He whacks out a home rub and jogs to the bases, willing his hands to stop shaking. He downs a water bottle, refills it, then downs it again. He doesn’t check on the hockey game. 

They’re able to slide by 5-4 thanks to a beauty of a pitch from Shawn. Jamie’s on the field as Chapman gets his third out and secures the win for the Rangers. After a team hug and Jamie has sprayed Joey Gallo with Gatorade, he heads to the dugout where Jordie has somehow gotten onto the field. 

Right. The news. Jamie grabs a water bottle for himself and heads to his brother. Jordie’s face is stone, and Jamie gears up for the worst. His team is staying for the news, standing together in the dugout and staring intently at Jamie’s back. 

“Hey,” he greets, spraying a stream of water into his mouth.

“They’re going.” Jordie says, and the water bottle falls out of Jamie’s hand. 

“What?”

Jordie’s face lights up into a grin, nodding hard enough to snap his spine, “They won 4-2, Jame. They’re going!”

“They’re going?” Jamie echoes weakly. He thinks his hands are shaking. He covers his mouth, ignoring the sweat and the salt, feeling tears prick in his eyes. “They won.”

Jamie pulls Jordie in tight. “They’re actually going?” He asks, voice shaky and high as he chokes back a sob. 

“Yeah, bro,” Jordie laughs delightedly, “They’re going.”

His team gathers around him immediately, and he throws himself at one of them — Shawn, he thinks. “They did it!” He screams, “They actually did it!”

Shawn hollers at the top of his lungs, and holds Jamie tight as he struggles through trying not to cry. “They did it.”

He leaves pretty quickly after that, wanting to make it to the house as soon as possible so he can see Tyler. His baby did it, fuck,  _ fuck. _

Jamie pulls into the driveway and sees Tyler’s car parked in its normal spot, which means he’s home. Jamie all but runs through the garage, duffel slamming around and probably breaking everything inside. 

It’s worth it, though, when he pushes the door open to the house half a minute later, shouts,  _ “Babe,”  _ and sees the dogs fly out of the kitchen. All he gets is a blur before Tyler’s leaping into his arms and slamming him against the wall, legs bent at the knees and kicking in his excitement. 

“Fucking can’t believe it,” Jamie breathes, setting Tyler on his feet so he can shove his hands into Tyler’s still-damp hair and kiss all over his face, “So proud of you, fuck, you’re going to the Stanley Cup Playoffs.”

“I’m going to the Stanley Cup Playoffs,” Tyler says, and bursts into tears.

-

Later, when they’re sweaty and wiped free of come and lube, Jamie pulls himself out of Tyler’s arms and disappears down the stairs. 

“Uh, babe?” Tyler calls out, still heaving from his orgasm. Fuck, Jamie’s dick does wonders when they’re high on adrenaline. “Celebratory sex includes cuddles, you know?”

He hears Jamie snort all the way downstairs. 

When he comes back, Tyler’s burrowed under the blankets, and Jamie has two beers in his hands. It’s top-notch shitty beer,  _ Miller Lite Banquet, _ but it’s in glass bottles so Tyler can forgive him. Besides, what’s living in Texas without shitty beer?

Jamie twists both the caps open with his bicep, hands one to Tyler, and slides into bed beside him. Tyler curls into Jamie’s side, head on his pec and arms around his torso. Jamie wraps one big arm around Tyler’s shoulders, right where it belongs. Jamie tilts his bottle, and Tyler clinks his own against it. 

“To us,” says Jamie.

“What a sap,” says Tyler, then leans up and plants a pretty one on Jamie’s mouth.

Jamie smiles, like he’s thought of something cool. “Just call me a maple tree.”

Tyler pushes him out of the bed, and his beer goes with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are absolutely correct if you thought that I based Jamie finding out that Tyler is going to the playoffs after Julie Ertz learning Zach Ertz was going to the Super Bowl. 
> 
> ANYWAY oh my gosh that’s the end. Thank y’all so much for reading and joining me along as I basically put my entire summer fantasies into this book because I wanted 1491 to have it. I hope you enjoyed :*


End file.
